


Cold As Stone

by dracoommalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Curses, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Oblivious Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoommalfoy/pseuds/dracoommalfoy
Summary: After the Second Wizarding War, Draco Malfoy is hit with a curse that will eventually kill him, unless he can fall in love. And falling in love is easy, but watching someone else not fall is harder.Specifically, watching Harry Potter not fall.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 20
Kudos: 117





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually very proud of this and I feel like it has a lot of potential so you guys should give it a chance :)

Draco Malfoy hasn't felt anything in a long time. It's been a few months since the last time emotions took over him completely. Of course, he gets bursts of the daily fleeting emotions. Two second glimpses of happiness, sadness, anger, guilt, nothing out of the ordinary. But, now, as he looks down his shirt to see the circle of skin over his heart gray and cold and  _ stone, _ he realizes that he can't feel.

Draco Malfoy has been cursed. It happened right after his trial in front of the Wizengamot.

_ "I'll be right back," Draco said quietly to his mother as they exited the courtroom. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were free of charges, thanks to brilliant Harry Potter who testified on their behalf. Lucius Malfoy, however, was sentenced for Azkaban. Draco didn't know how to feel about it, so he didn't feel at all. _

_ He separated from his mother and made his way over to the bar in the lobby of the courthouse. Now, he wasn't exactly sure he'd get service since Potter was the only person in the Wizarding World, it seemed, that believed that Draco wasn't a killing machine, but he was slightly surprised when the bartender handed him the glass of water he had asked for. Draco's eyes flicked over the crowd as the many witches and wizards spilled out of the courtroom, tired after a long day of trials. None of them spared a glance at Draco Malfoy. _

_ Besides Potter, of course. His emerald green eyes with bags clearly visible under them found Draco's silver ones. Draco wasn't sure what Potter had expected. A thank you? An apology? A praise? Maybe someday, but not today. Therefore, Draco stared blankly back until Potter blinked and turned back to Weasley and Granger. _

_ Draco waited for the majority of the people to file out before walking back down the near-empty hallway alone. Well, he thought he was alone, until a man much older and much larger came from the shadows and slammed Draco back against the stone wall. The man was angry, that was clear. There was the malevolent glint in his eyes, and one arm held Draco in place, the other holding his wand and pointing it at him. _

_ "You're going to pay,  _ Malfoy _ ," The man spit. "Do you know what happened to me?" _

No, and why in Merlin's name would I?  _ He thought bitterly, but decided to say nothing. The man took this as a sign to continue. _

_ "I lost my entire family in this war. Because of  _ your _ Death Eaters. They killed my wife and my daughters right in front of my face, and only I managed to escape. Do you know what that feels like?  _ Do you _?" He yelled, and Draco thought it smart to shake his head quickly. _

_ The man sneered wickedly and pressed the tip of his wand to Draco's chest, right above his heart, "It feels," Draco felt the coldest sensation he'd ever felt wash over him, and gasped as he felt the area above his heart harden. "Like that." _

Draco and his mother had tried on their own to identify the curse for the following days. There was no doubt about it, the area around Draco's heart had turned to solid, freezing, dark stone, and, even in the hottest of rooms, he was always cold. No simple cloaks or blankets or even a warming charm stopped the bone-chilling feeling Draco carried around with him. The worst is that he felt like that on the outside as well, and whenever his mother touched his arm for even a second, she shivered.

Reluctantly, they had decided to go to St. Mungo's a week after the trial, after he'd been hit with the curse. The Healers ran a few tests and sadly informed the Malfoys that yes, Draco had been hit with a curse, and no, they couldn't do anything about it.

"It's a Stone Heart curse," one of the Healers explained, "The stone surrounding Mr. Malfoy's heart will eventually spread to his whole body until he becomes fully stone. Like a statue. Until his heart hardens."

Narcissa let out a quiet sob. Draco kept his blank gaze fixed on a painting on the wall, watching the people in it play cards. No tears filled his eyes. There might've been dread and sadness somewhere in him. But, then again, he had a  _ stone cold heart _ . He bitterly forced down a scowl at the thought of it.

His mother controlled her tears and looked to the Healers. "Is there any way- any way at all- that it can be cured?"

The Healers exchanged a nervous look before nodding. "There's one way. Old magic, silly, really, but old and powerful magic that's worked wonders before."

"Well?" Narcissa asked, eyes wide.

"It's- it's love." That caught Draco's attention. His eyes slid from the painting and to the Healer speaking. "In order to reverse the effects of a cold heart curse, Mr. Malfoy needs to feel the one feeling that warms anyone's heart. He needs to love and the person he loves needs to love him the same way in return."

Everyone in the room was quiet for a moment. The only sound came from the shuffling of cards in the painting on the wall, but then the people in that even noticed the silence and stilled. After a few minutes of this, Narcissa spoke again, struggling to keep her voice steady.

"My son isn't heartless. He feels things. He loves- he loves me. And I love him. So I'm sorry if I don't understand why-"

The Healer shook her head, cutting Draco's mother off. "Draco does love you, of course. And I'm sure he has friends he cares deeply about as well. But based on the results from the tests we ran, Draco hasn't truly, deeply, felt  _ anything _ since the end of the war. And only true, deep, love can reverse this curse."

So, two months later, Narcissa Malfoy was carting Draco and his packed trunk out of the door of the Manor and off to Hogwarts for his eighth year. Many people were going, she had said, and you need to redo your N.E.W.T's anyways.

But Draco knew that wasn't the reason for his mother's sudden strong desire for him to go back to school. She secretly, and would never say it, hoped that he would find love at Hogwarts. Part of him secretly, and he would never say it, hoped that he would, too. But this was different. His mother wanted him to find love so he could survive, yes, but also so he could be happy. Feel again. Draco only wanted to find love so he could live.

Which, when you think about it, wouldn't help him find love at all.


	2. Panic Attacks

"Harry, if you don't get out of that stupid bed right now, you're going to be late! And we all know Slughorn loves you, but that's no excuse to be tardy on the first day of classes!" Hermione yelled. Harry groaned and rolled over, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table and shoving them all.

Ron was in the bed across from Harry's, the curtains ripped open, eyes wide and terrified as he watched Hermione race around the room, shoving books in her bag and doing last minute checks. Ron met Harry's eyes.

"Remind me, Harry," He said, ducking as Hermione threw his shoes at him, "Why did we agree to let her share a dorm with us?"

Harry snorted and shook his head, rubbing his tired eyes under his glasses. Hermione was a pain when it came to classes, yes, but he was grateful. If she wasn't in here, Ron and him would most certainly have been late for class.

So, with one more yawn and stretch, Harry got out of his bed and trudged to the bathroom to get changed into his robes. Frowning, he noticed that the Gryffindor crest that was usually on them was now replaced with the Hogwarts one, and bright, white 8 had been stitched over it. As childish as it may seem, Harry missed Gryffindor. He'd always be one, of course, but part of him missed being in the tower, being in a  _ House _ . Now, all of the eighth years were shoved into a different tower together.

Not that it was awful. He liked the bonding and house unity of course, but there was always going to be that nostalgic feeling in him. He glared at his unkempt hair in the mirror, tried to flatten it like always, gave up like always, and left the bathroom.

He grabbed his bag, waited with Hermione for Ron, and then the three of them made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry was nervously fidgeting with the strap of his bag, and although he saw Hermione notice, she said nothing about it. Harry slowed when they reached the steps that led down into the entrance hall. Ron and Hermione stopped, looking at him with confused expressions.

"You two head on in, I- I just..." He trailed off, his heart rate speeding up, his breaths shallower. He needed them to leave.  _ Now _ .

Hermione frowned. "Yeah. Alright." She sent Harry a look that he knew meant he'd be questioned later, grabbed Ron's arm, and pulled him down the steps and into the Great Hall with her. When they were out of sight, Harry took off.

He ducked his head as he walked quickly past the groups of students trickling into the Great Hall for breakfast, not wanting to get bombarded right now. He was always bombarded. With everything. By everyone.

_ "Harry, what did it feel like when you defeated You-Know-Who?" _

_ "Harry, do you think you avenged your parent's deaths?" _

_ "Harry, do you feel responsible for all the pain and loss caused?" _

Struggling to breath now, Harry forced the memories of the questions away and gasped, trying to breath in anything. His eyes were wet and he finally found a deserted hallway where he would peacefully suffer through his panic attack alone.

It was the Great Hall that had triggered it. He had been there a few times after the war, but not like this. Like this, he was asked to walk in there and sit at the Gryffindor table and eat breakfast in that room as though a few months before it hadn't been filled with dead and injured bodies. 

Dead and injured bodies that were the result of  _ him _ .

If possible, Harry's breaths were smaller and shallower than they had been a moment ago. He felt a few tears fall down his face but didn't care. If things went on like this, he wouldn't have to care. He'd pass out from lack of air.

This thought only made him more nervous and more panicked and made it more difficult to breathe.

He jumped in surprise when he felt someone grab his arm and turn him. He was faced with someone he hadn't seen since trials. Draco Malfoy.

And, if we're being honest, Draco Malfoy was just as surprised to see Harry Potter as Harry was him. Not that he couldn't recognize that unruly mess of jet-black hair from the back, he's seen it for the past seven years now. He was only surprised to see the amount of fear and helplessness in those green eyes where there was usually confidence and light.

Oh, and he was also surprised he'd walked over to see what the matter was in the first place. But he knew something was wrong. He had gotten the same symptoms as a child when he was terrified of his father. Harry Potter was having a panic attack.

"Potter," Draco said loudly, "Potter, look at me." Harry's eyes found Draco's once more as he struggled for air. "Hold your breath." He saw the confusion and accusation in Harry's eyes. "I'm not trying to kill you!" Draco scowled. "Just- you have to hold your breath."

Now Potter was shaking his head, and Draco was still scowling. "Well, if you want to die, by all means!" He turned to walk away, but Potter had grabbed his arm and closed his eyes. His breath wasn't shallow. It wasn't anything. He was holding it. "Okay, now breathe out. Slowly. Then breathe in again."

Potter did as Draco said. He opened his eyes as he breathed in and steadied himself again. Draco nodded and pulled his arm quickly out of Potter's grip. Neither of them said anything for a moment. In all honesty, that was the most Draco Malfoy had spoken in a long time.

"Malfoy," Potter said after a moment. "Do me a favor and don't mention that to anybody. Even Ron and Hermione don't know about it."

That caught Draco by surprise. "That- that wasn't your first one?" He asked. Potter shook his head. Draco thought about it. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he owed Potter a great debt. He had saved his life many times. So, he nodded curtly. And, without another word, he turned on his heel, and made his way to the Great Hall.

Harry watched him go, and shivered. With a blink, he realized that Draco Malfoy's hands were the coldest things he'd ever felt.

• • •

If Draco had a galleon for every time Pansy scoffed at something Blaise said, he'd be rich. And that's saying something, because he already is. This time, Pansy was rolling her eyes as Blaise tried to defend Slughorn.

"Blaise, don't be a daft cow," she scowled. "Slughorn avoids us. That's why we sit at the back table and that's why he doesn't come back here, don't be stupid."

"He doesn't avoid us!" Blaise argued. "I was in his Slug Club two years ago. Fight  _ that _ , Pans."

Pansy rolled her eyes again as she added her powdered Bicorn horn to her potion. "Nobody avoids  _ you _ , Blaise. Hell, you could probably woo Granger if you really tried." She spared a quick glare at Granger, who sat with Weasley and Potter and the front table. "Draco, though, that's a different story. Slughorn won't even look at you."

She meant it as a joke, and even laughed a little, but Draco didn't feel like laughing. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed- genuinely laughed. And Pansy noticed this. "Hey, you know I'm only joking, right?"

Draco noticed her finger too late. She had already poked the middle of his chest, where, two months later, the stone had spread up above his heart a bit and down past his top ribs. Her eyes widened when she felt the hardness under his robes. "By Merlin, Malfoy, do you have a curse-proof vest under that?" She smirked.

Tipping a vial of bouncing spider juice into his cauldron, Draco didn't quite meet Pansy's eyes when he muttered, "Something like that."

Throughout the rest of the day, Pansy didn't leave Draco's side. She kept shooting him analytic glances as if he'd crack on the spot and spill everything to her. Eventually, he did, when she cornered him into his, Blaise, and Theo's dorm. Draco dropped into the chair at his desk as Blaise and Theo crashed onto Blaise's bed and went over the Ancient Runes homework.

"Now, are you ready to talk? I gave you all day to brood, but not anymore," Pansy shot Draco a glare as she sat herself on the edge of his desk. Blaise and Theo's conversation stopped as they looked up at Pansy and Draco. The latter turned in his chair so he was facing everyone in the room.

Theo cleared his throat. "We wouldn't say anything if we weren't genuinely worried, mate."

"Ever since the war..." Blaise trailed off. "Well, just- are you alright?"

Draco looked at them each in turn before he was hit with emotion. Real, raw, emotion that he hadn't felt in so long. They  _ cared _ . They cared about him and they sure as hell would miss him when he eventually turned into a stone statue. He took a deep breath and stood, pulling his robes off. His friends watched, confused but quiet, as he pulled off his sweater vest and unbuttoned the buttons on his white collared shirt.

Pansy was the first to react. She gasped loudly and Draco looked down at the gray patch over his chest. Blaise and Theo walked over to him with wide eyes. Theo looked at Draco's face. "Is that- stone?"

Looking away quickly, Draco nodded. Pansy poked it, just as she had done in Potions, and blinked a few times. "But... how...?" she breathed.

Blaise stepped back and looked at Draco with a hard gaze. "It's a curse, isn't it?" Draco nodded again. "I think I've read about it before. But, one hasn't been cast for decades."

"Care to share with the rest of the class or would you like to fill us in?" Theo scowled.

"It's a Stone Heart curse, isn't it?" Blaise double-checked with Draco, who nodded a third time.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You know, for being Mr. Know It All, you sure do say  _ isn't it _ a lot."

"Shove off," Blaise glared at her. "But this curse means that Draco's going to turn fully to stone. A statue. His heart will harden and he'll basically die a slow and inevitable death." Blaise said simply, folding his arms. Draco winced.

Gasping again, Pansy's hands flew to her mouth. "Draco! When- when did this happen?"

"Right after the trial," Draco told her, walking over and sitting on his bed.

"Is there any way to get rid of it?" She asked nervously.

Draco couldn't stop himself as he let out a bitter laugh. "Oh. Yeah. I have to fall in love- real,  _ true _ , love, and they have to feel the same way about me. So, at this rate, I'll be stone by Christmas."

Pansy was wringing her hands together, clearly worried. "Draco, don't say that. We're going to find you a lovely lady-"

"No." Draco said before he could stop himself.

"What do you mean ' _ no _ '? Yes, we will, and you'll be happy and you'll be alive-"

Draco shook his head. "No, Pansy. Not..." He trailed off and took a deep breath. "Not lady."

"Oh." Pansy said, and then she realized what he was saying in the form of wide eyes. " _ Oh _ ." She dropped down next to him on the bed and took his hand. "Oh, Draco, I... I'm so proud of you." She wrapped her spare arm around his shoulders. 

He said nothing. He was in shock. Back in school, he had found boys attractive, of course. He wouldn't deny that someone was attractive no matter what gender they were. He had called Pansy pretty many times. But, now that he thought about it, he never actually felt anything he was supposed to for girls.

"When..." Pansy asked slowly. "When-"

"I don't know," Draco said quickly. "It's just, when you said  _ lady _ , I just... said it." He looked up at Blaise and Theo, who were standing above him and Pansy. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

Blaise shook his head. "Mate, no. Don't say sorry. We're your friends, Draco. We care about you."

Theo nodded his agreement. "You're  _ you _ , Draco. And we love you."

Draco felt more emotions today than he had for the past two months. He and Pansy stood as the four of them wrapped up in a group hug. For the first time in a long time, Draco felt worthy. He felt like he belonged.

He felt  _ happy _ .

• • •

Harry wasn't sure what made him do it. But, he did it. After classes that afternoon, he retreated to his shared dormitory and pulled out the Marauder's Map. It was strange, as though riding a bicycle after a couple years of not. His eyes were trained the moment they looked at the map. He found Malfoy's name within seconds. Although, it was quite easy since his name rested in the dorm a few doors down from Harry's own.

Frowning, he folded up the map once more. "Mischief Managed," he sighed, and dropped the parchment back into his trunk. Sitting down on his bed, he tried to come up with a reason for why he just did that. He supposed it had to do with the fact that he had seen Malfoy- really  _ seen _ Malfoy- for the first time since the war today.

At the trial, they hadn't spoken directly. Harry had testified and had avoided Malfoy’s gaze while doing it. He still wasn't quite sure why, but he didn't look at Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, the once loud and arrogant prick, reduced to quiet and a shadow of the boy he once was.

That's what war does to people. Harry supposed that's what it did to him. He never had panic attacks before-

Panic attacks. That's why he's been thinking about Malfoy.

Malfoy knew what to do. He knew how to stop them. Could it be possible that he had had them before? Surely not during their Hogwarts years- although, maybe during sixth year. But not in their younger years. Maybe he had them before that? Now Harry was intrigued.

Harry, his whole life, thought he knew Draco Malfoy. He thought he was just a one sided dung beetle that only looked out for himself. But, Harry was wrong. Malfoy proved that earlier this year. When he didn't tell Bellatrix that it was Harry at the Manor. When he tossed Harry his wand right before Voldemort had killed him once and for all.

No, there was a lot more to Draco Malfoy than Harry knew. And he intended to figure out as much as he could.

"Hey, Harry," Ginny greeted him as he made his way into the eighth year common room from his dorm. Although Ginny was a seventh year, McGonagall had allowed the seventh years access into the eighth year's common room. Ginny and Luna visited frequently.

"Hi, Gin," Harry smiled a little, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "What are you doing here?"

Ginny wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. "What a great way to greet your girlfriend."

Harry laughed a little and glanced up as he saw Malfoy leaving his dorm with some other Slytherins. He caught Harry's eye and Harry nodded a little. Draco looked at him for a second or two before turning back to his friends.

"-in the library," Ginny was saying. "So, come on."

Harry didn't bother asking her to repeat as she took his hand in hers and led him to the library, where Ron and Hermione waited for them. Ginny sat next to Hermione and Harry took his seat next to Ron across from the girls.

Ron had his head dropped in his hands and was groaning. "Hermione, please, we're eighteen-"

"Exactly, even more of a reason as to why you should be responsible and stay on top of your work this year. We're taking the N.E.W.T's Ron, our whole  _ future _ depends on this year. You need to maintain decent grades if you even want to  _ think _ about being an Auror-"

She was cut off by Ron banging his head onto the table. So, she turned to badger Harry instead. "I'm making you two schedules. Like I tried to back when we took our O.W.L's, but we were of course occupied with your dreams and with Voldemort, but  _ now _ ," she spared a glare at Ron. "Now you've got nothing to distract you."

"Hermione," Ron looked up. "Normal couples kiss and laugh and hang out. Normal couples do not go on study dates and do homework as a form of fun. Back me up, will you, Harry?"

Ginny laughed. "Really, Ron, you want Harry to tell you about what him and I do when we hang out alone?" Ron looked revolted and decided to deal with Hermione and her schedule instead. Harry, however, was deep in thought.

He still had something to distract him. Hermione was wrong. It wasn't Ginny. It wasn't Malfoy either. It was his panic attacks. They were happening frequently now, being surrounded by the rooms and walls in which he had so many bad experiences, and where so many people had died.

He had been taking Malfoy's advice. He held his breath and breathed slowly when they came, but they were still worrying. More worrying when he realized he couldn't identify why he didn't tell Hermione, Ron, or Ginny about them. 

Deep down, he knew the reason, though. They had spent the last near decade worrying about Harry in one way or another. Whether it be because of his visions, dreams, because of his physical fights like down in the Chamber or at the graveyard, they were always worrying about him. And now, for once, he didn't want them to. So, he kept quiet.


	3. Be Better

Weeks went by, and soon enough, the students of Hogwarts had September tucked under their belts. Harry's life had been pretty routine: classes, homework in the common room, studying at the library, alone with Ginny in her dorm, and alone in deserted hallways trying to steady his breathing.

It dawned to him a week into October that he couldn't be with Ginny. It wasn't anything personal, he loved her, he really did, but she wasn't helping his panic attacks. If anything she made them worse. He could barely get a minute alone to breathe, and he always felt pressure to be this picture perfect boyfriend for her. But he couldn't. Not now, at least. So, he met her outside the entrance to the eighth year common room.

"You look worried. Is this a serious talk? Bloody hell, I didn't prepare for a serious talk," she frowned as she approached him.

Harry offered her a nervous smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "Yeah, Ginny, I'm sorry. It's a serious talk."

She nodded, running a hand through her hair. "Well, go ahead."

He swallowed and took a deep breath before he began. He had already come up with an excuse since he wasn't willing to tell her about the panic attacks. A shitty one it may be, but it was an excuse nonetheless. 

"Well," he began. "I think that we should break up." It came out quickly and he watched as Ginny's eyebrows flicked up. "It's just, I really want to focus on my N.E.W.T's right now. It's not you and it's not me- it's nothing personal. But Auror training is a lot and I'm trying to get the perfect grades so I can qualify, and I just really don't think I'd be good in a relationship right now."

Ginny was nodding and seemed to understand where Harry was coming from. She definitely didn't inherit Ron's temper. She paused for a little before nodding. "Yeah, yeah okay. I get that. And, I mean, we can stay friends, right?"

Harry nodded quickly. "Yes, yes of course!" He was happy with the way this was going.

"Can I slap you?" Ginny asked.

He blinked. "What?"

"Just once? I won't do it again." She grinned a little. Harry hesitated but gave in and nodded. Her grin turned into a smirk as she raised his hand and slapped him across the face. He supposed he did deserve that a little. "Thanks. See you around, Potter."

Harry touched his cheek and winced. "Mhm." He glared at her and she walked away, back down the hall. Harry sighed and turned only to freeze in his tracks. Malfoy was standing a few feet away, his eyebrows raised in slight amusement. "Why do you always catch me at my worst times?"

Malfoy said nothing, but Harry could see the glint in his eyes. "Let me guess-" Harry continued. "I'm always at my worst time?"

The corner of Malfoy's mouth twitched up as he nodded. Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, it happens to the best of us." Malfoy offered a one shoulder shrug and walked forward to enter the common room. "Wait!" Harry called before he realized what he was doing. "Do you- do you want to walk to the courtyard?"

Malfoy's brow arched in that smug way that made Harry feel something he always did when he saw that. From the first time he saw that expression when he was eleven up until now, it always affected him. He supposed it was anger and scowled.

"Did I or did I not just hear you breakup with the she-Weasel because you couldn't be in a relationship?" Malfoy said with a slight edge to his voice.

Harry scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy, I'm not asking you on a date. The day I do that will be the day the world ends." He continued when Malfoy said nothing. He didn't say much these days, it almost made Harry miss the insults they used to trade. "I need to finish my Potions essay, and you're good at Potions and I'm not, so-"

"You seemed pretty confident in your potion-making skills in sixth year," Malfoy said coolly, his eyes narrowed. 

Harry waved his hand. "Yes, well, I had help. And then that help backfired." Harry winced when he remembered Malfoy laying on the flooded bathroom floor, red staining his shirt from the gashes Harry had caused. Harry let his eyes wander down to Malfoy's covered chest and wondered if there were scars under all those clothes. Malfoy cleared his throat and Harry looked back up at his face quickly. "Well? Will you help me?"

Malfoy seemed lost in thought, glancing back and forth slowly between the common room door and Harry. A minute passed before he nodded a little. "I'll do your Potions if you do my Defense," he said quietly.

A wide grin spread on Harry's face as he snatched the books from Malfoy's arms, who blinked in surprise. "Deal. Let's go!" He turned on his heel and started off towards the courtyard, hearing Draco's footsteps behind him.

He doubted they would have a big heart-to-heart about panic attacks while writing essays, but this was a start.

• • •

Slughorn handed Harry his essay back with a large O written in royal blue ink. "Well done, m'boy!" Slughorn clapped Harry's shoulder and moved on as Harry stared wide eyed and open mouthed at the grade in front of him. 

"Mate- how in Merlin's beard did you do that?" Ron asked incredulously, glaring at his own Acceptable.

Harry wordlessly turned in his chair to look at the table closest to the back of the room where Malfoy sat with the Slytherins. Malfoy was already looking at Harry and raised his eyebrows in question.

He held up his essay with a big smile and pointed to the O. He was practically beaming at Malfoy as he gave him a thumbs up. Malfoy looked away from Harry for a second as he took his paper from Slughorn and turned it to Harry, pointing at his own O.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and gave Harry sarcastic thumbs up back. Harry grinned and turned back to Ron, who was watching the interaction, confused. "I got Malfoy to write it for me," Harry told the ginger in a low voice. "And I wrote his Defense one. Don't tell Hermione."

Ron and Harry glanced at Hermione who was glowering at her Exceeds Expectations. Ron looked back at Harry. "Like- you and Malfoy had this exchange civilly? No insults? No fighting? You had a real conversation?"

"More than that, actually," Harry nodded. "Of course there were insults, though, it's Malfoy- what do you expect? But we were in the courtyard together and didn't fight much as we wrote the essays. Then again, we didn't  _ talk _ much either. Malfoy doesn't really talk a lot anymore- have you noticed?" Harry rambled.

Ron was looking at him weirdly as he shook his head. "No, I didn't notice. I don't pay any mind to Malfoy, Harry, and I thought you didn't either. But now you're... smiling at him?" Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron continued. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing! You know, maybe he's changed or something... just, be careful, alright?"

Harry frowned, confused at what Ron meant. Why was he acting like he was disapproving of something? "Yeah... alright..." Harry nodded, and looked to the board, thoughts of Malfoy leaving his mind the second he read the instructions.

Draco, however, was still staring at the back of Harry's head when the instructions appeared on the board. Pansy had to snap in front of his face five times before he looked away and turned to her.

"What the hell, Draco?" She glared at him. "I've been talking to you. Can you go get the ingredients? I'll set up the cauldrons."

Nodding, Draco stood and walked to the supplies cupboard where a few other students were, including... Potter. Draco didn't look at the shorter boy as he collected the ingredients for his table, but, of course, Potter didn't take the hint.

"That essay was bloody brilliant, Malfoy."

Draco looked at Potter quickly, his eyes widening slightly.

"I just complimented you, yes," Potter rolled his eyes. "Take it or leave it, but you just got me my first O in this class this year. Now, it's time to study you and everything you do and your study habits and pour over your homework until I have even memorized your handwriting so I can be just like you and get the perfect grade in this class-"

Draco tried  _ very _ hard not to laugh. But he couldn't stop the small smile that crept its way onto his lips. Potter grinned when he saw that he had gotten a reaction from Draco. He didn't say anything else as he gathered his ingredients and went back to the Gryffindors, leaving Draco.

Gathering the rest of his own, Draco made his way back to his friends, dumping his armful of ingredients onto the middle of the table. He resumed his seat next to Pansy and caught sight of his reflection in the cauldron. His face was pink- he had been blushing. But he felt no heat. He frowned slightly and pressed his hand to his face, expecting it to be hot from the blushing. 

It was as cold as stone.

Draco sighed and dropped his hand.

His heart, however, was still beating wildly. Draco told himself that it was simply because it was fighting to keep beating under the pressure of the stone on his chest, but in reality, he knew that that was not why he was feeling this way.

Harry Potter had complimented him. And Draco had liked it.

• • •

"Would be nice to fly again, wouldn't it?" Blaise asked as he and Draco stood at the balcony of the Astronomy tower, looking out over the Quidditch pitch.

Draco shook his head almost instantly. Of course, he missed flying. He always would. It was his favorite thing to do as a child and he loved being on the team for Slytherin. But the last time he had been on a broom was behind Potter after he had just watched Crabbe die in front of his eyes.

So, needless to say, Draco was not ready to get back onto a broom anytime soon.

But, Potter, on the other hand, was flying around out there as though that day in the Room of Requirement never happened. To him, it probably did. It had no real significance for him. The thought made Draco's blood boil.

"I thought he was on the team for a moment," Blaise continued, talking about Potter. "But eighth years can't be. Found out he's actually assisting Madam Hooch. He's the coach or something. I can't say I'm surprised, can you?"

Draco shook his head. He knew Blaise was trying to get him to talk more, and Draco couldn't blame him. October was nearing its end and the stone had reached the bottom of Draco's ribs and spread up and to the sides more. Of course Blaise would want him to talk more before he died.

He pushed the thought away and looked back at the pitch. The Ravenclaw team were hosting their tryouts and Potter was flying around with them, providing assistance where it was needed. Draco let his mind wander to the day Potter had gotten his O.

Later that evening, Draco had decided that the blushing and increased heart rate was simply from Potter's stupid jokes. Draco thought it was funny, was all. He hadn't laughed or found anything funny in a while, and he most likely simply forgot what it was like.

"So, Hogsmeade trip this weekend. Halloween next weekend. Are you going back to your mother next week?" Blaise asked. It was a yes-or-no question but Draco felt the obligation to do more than nod or shake his head.

"I suppose my mother would like to see me," Draco said quietly. "She'll carefully ask if I've found love yet in which I'll tell her no." He glanced sideways at Blaise. "And then she'll get upset and cry, but not in front of me because she won't want me to think she's upset."

Blaise didn't try to tell Draco that it was okay, and he was thankful for that. Pansy tried to console Draco when he didn't need consolation. Theo tried to take Draco's mind off of it. Neither one understood that the thought of turning to stone was always in his mind and that, no, it wasn't okay. He knew he could count on Blaise not to sugarcoat anything.

"I'm here, mate," Blaise said quietly. "Know that. I know I can't save you and I can't give you what you need, but I  _ am _ here for you."

Draco felt his throat tighten. He couldn't speak, so he nodded. It occurred to him that Blaise probably thought Draco didn't want to reply.

Draco wanted to reply. He wanted to say so many things.

But, instead, he turned, and left the tower.

Blaise didn't follow him down, so Draco aimlessly wandered the halls until he stopped near the main doors where the Ravenclaws were entering the school, followed by a very exhausted-looking Potter who spotted Draco immediately.

Before he could come over, a third year Ravenclaw girl wrapped her arms around his waist. "Thank you for today Harry, you're a  _ brilliant _ flyer." Draco smirked a little as Harry awkwardly said his thanks and patted the girl's shoulder before she rejoined her giggling friends.

Potter let out a long sigh when he stood next to Draco as they watched the Ravenclaws noisily file out of the entrance hall. Draco looked at Harry, unable to help but wonder why he bothered staying with him.

As though Potter read his mind (which Draco knew he could not do because Potter was awful at Legilimency), he said, "I'm not here to force you to do my homework again, don't worry." Draco looked at him with an expression he was sure Potter couldn't read.

"I wouldn't do it anyways," Draco said clearly, which startled Potter. He spoke around his friends a little, but barely said one word to Potter. Well, since he was dying, might as well have a final few good rows with his enemy.

Enemy. Draco wasn't ready to accept the fact that Potter was becoming the exact opposite.

"Sure," Potter shoved his hand in his pockets and began walking down the hall. When Draco didn't follow, he looked over his shoulder and called, "Coming?" Draco glanced around before giving in and following. He had nothing better to do anyways.

Due to his longer legs, Draco caught up to Potter in a few strides and walked next to him as he led the pair through the halls. Draco began to wonder when he let himself hang around with Harry Potter and stopped walking. Potter stopped and looked at him, confused.

"Come on, you ferret," he laughed a little. "Don't you trust me?" The second he said it, both boys winced. "Sorry, I... I shouldn't have-"

"Yes," Draco said. He surprised himself, but he didn't find the word untrue. After Potter had saved him during the war and testified for him, essentially freeing him, he  _ did _ trust the boy. And he didn't childishly hate him anymore.

War changed people. But, moreover, it changes how people think. And Draco thinks that he and Potter could have been friends in another universe. Maybe they could be friends in this one. Draco only had a few months left- it was now or never.

Draco cleared his throat. "Yes, Potter, I trust you. And I won't be repeating it, so..."

To Draco's surprise, Potter grinned. "You know Malfoy, I think you're growing on me a bit."

"Well, don't ask me on a date, I don't want the world to end," Draco said nonchalantly. Potter took a second to remember his words from the other day and laughed. He laughed a real, genuine, laugh that probably only his close friends and family heard. And now Draco heard it.

And he couldn't help but feel a little proud.

"Only in your dreams, Malfoy," Potter smirked when he regained his composure and continued walking. Draco followed him silently until they reached a large portrait of a bowl of fruit. Potter had a mischievous look in his eye, but Draco was simply confused. Potter stood, clearly waiting for a reaction from Draco.

"Wow, Potter, this is  _ really _ fascinating," Draco said with mock interest. "A bowl of fruit, hmm, so...  _ exquisite _ ." He tapped his chin and nodded.

Potter rolled his eyes. "You're a prat, Malfoy. I take back my previous statement." Then, he reached up and tickled the pear that was painted in the fruit bowl. Draco's eyes widened as a pair of eyes blinked and revealed themselves on the pear. The fruit giggled a little and then the portrait swung forward, revealing a door. Potter smirked at Draco.

"That..." Draco trailed off, eyeing Potter. "I never knew about that."

"Yeah, git, that's why I'm showing you."

"Ah, yes, I forgot you already knew that from when you were my devoted stalker two years ago." Draco smirked.

Potter instantly lit up, his face turning read as he tried to stammer out a retort. "Mhm," Draco cut off his noises and walked to the door. "Now, what is this?" Potter pushed it open and revealed what was behind it.

It was the kitchens. Normally, kitchens are nothing special. That is, every kitchen besides the Hogwarts one isn't special. There were house elves wandered about, and the smell of food cooking filled the air. Draco didn't notice as Harry's eyes raked his face.

Harry liked when Malfoy showed emotion. When he saw the kitchens, his eyes had lit up, even just for a second, with childish excitement. Harry stepped past Malfoy and entered the room. The house elves greeted him and he shook Winky's hand.

Malfoy walked in behind him, and the door swung shut. "How- how long have you known about this, Potter?"

"A few years," Harry shrugged, accepting a plate of treacle tart and saying his thanks. "I come here when the questions and crowds get to be too much. No one else knows, thought, so don't-"

"Tell anyone?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow and took a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream one of the elves was handing him. "You're too trusting, Potter. This, the panic attacks- how are those, by the way?"

Harry eyed him. "Should I not trust you?"

Malfoy glared right back, biting his spoon to keep it in his mouth as he pointed at Harry. "Don't ignore my question."

"Let's be better," Harry said, suddenly serious. Malfoy noticed this and took the spoon from his mouth, dropping it in his bowl.

"Better than what?" He asked quietly.

"Then we were."

Harry didn't have to say anything else. He didn't have to. They both understood, they both knew their past.

And they both wanted to be better.


	4. Don't Be Lazy, Potter

The eighth years trickled out of Hogwarts after the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and sevenths. It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the term, and everyone couldn't help but feel a bit excited. Harry walked with Ron and Hermione into the Three Broomsticks where they met up with Luna, Neville, and Ginny. Harry noticed Neville and Luna's linked hands and raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah, sorry guys," Neville said sheepishly. "I forgot to tell you- Luna and I are together!"

"Congratulations!" Hermione smiled. Ron and Harry also congratulated the pair before an awkward air settled over them. Harry and Ginny would have been the third couple, but they were no longer together. And, to be quite honest, neither of them really felt an absence.

Ron, however, did. "Harry, Ginny, just get back together. Then you'll be my real brother and mum won't go mad when she finds out you two ended."

Ginny rolled her eyes and Harry just took a long sip of his butterbeer. "Ron, Harry and I are perfectly fine not being together. If anything, I think we can both agree that being a couple was a bit weird."

"Weird?" Luna asked airily. "How so?"

Ginny nodded to Harry, who reluctantly put down his glass. "Er- well. Kissing wasn't really our thing. Nothing was. We just hung out in the same way I'd hang out with Hermione or Luna. So it's really better off this way."

Ron was looking between them. "But, that day in the library! Ginny said-"

"Ginny didn't say anything," Ginny grinned. "Ginny just wanted to make Ronnie uncomfortable."

They all laughed and moved onto a new topic of conversation. Harry wasn't really fully in it. His mind kept wandering to the other night with Dra- Malfoy in the kitchens. He had been speaking impulsively, but it was the truth, he really did want to be better. And he didn't mind Malfoy's company. Maybe they  _ could _ be friends.

He took a long sip of his butterbeer, finishing the mug. Nobody questioned him when he made his way over to the bar to order a firewhiskey. Madam Rosmerta went to fetch a bottle for him when he was approached by a group of angry-looking sixth years.

"Harry Potter," One of them said.

Harry could feel himself on the verge of tipsy and knew he should think before he spoke. However, he blurted out, "Yeah, last time I checked." The group didn't seem to find this as amusing as he did, though.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Another asked, glaring at him.

"Letting the Malfoys off the hook like you did?" The third asked, also glaring.

Harry was taken aback. He knew not everyone had agreed with his choice to let Draco and Narcissa Malfoy off- free of all charges. But he had agreed to send Lucius to Azkaban, so that was something, wasn't it? He swallowed and said nothing.

"He's a Death Eater!" The first student said loudly, causing a few people to look over. "His side killed people on our side-"

Harry glared at the boy. "And you don't think people on our side killed anybody?" He took a step closer, growing angrier. "Hate to break it to you, but we did. We killed. We're all guilty, we're all  _ monsters _ ."

"But still-" The second student, a girl, tried.

"Draco Malfoy is none of your concern!" Harry exclaimed. "You don't know him! You-" Harry took a deep breath and realized everyone was looking at them. He grabbed the bottle Rosmerta had given him and chugged half of it. Hell, what was he saying?  _ He _ didn't know Malfoy either. "Draco Malfoy is none of my concern either. He's not the same and his past is nobody's concern but his own. If we all held pasts accountable for our actions then I could've played the sad orphan card to get around things. But I didn't. And Malfoy isn't playing the Death Eater card because his past doesn't define him."

Downing the rest of the firewhiskey, he slammed the bottle back on the counter and staggered out of the pub without another word. Harry was unsure why he had grown so angry when the students insulted Malfoy. He himself had done it for years. But... he was angry. And he defended Malfoy at trials, and he'd do it again to anyone that had a go at him.

Harry wasn't really sure where he was going to go. It was cold out; the late October winds were growing chilly. He was slightly drunk and cold and for some reason decided Honeydukes was the perfect place to go. 

Draco spotted the mess immediately. The bell above the door of Honeydukes chimed and, out of curiosity, Draco looked over to see who had walked in. It was Potter, clearly tipsy and clearly alone. Pansy had spotted him too.

"Oh who knew," she drawled, "that the famous Potter could lose grip over himself."

"Hey," Draco said instinctively, frowning. "Don't say that. He doesn't just get drunk. He's mentioned people bombarding him, that probably happened again." Pansy was studying Draco, but his eyes were locked on Potter, who was scanning the store, most likely looking for someone he knew.

"Right," Pansy said slowly. "Draco, do you-"

"Malfoy!" Potter called, clapping his hands and striding over to Draco and Pansy, who just blinked at him. "Malfoy, I just defended the  _ shit _ out of you." Potter giggled and stood in front of them. "Group of sixth years were talking bad, but don't you worry, I told them off."

Draco said nothing until he hissed in pain when Pansy elbowed him in the side of his stomach. She would've done his ribs, but they were stone, and she would've hurt herself more than him. She had a mischievous look on her face as she tilted her head at Potter.

Wincing, he turned back to Potter. "Th-thank you, Potter."

He waved his hand. "Call me Harry. My friends call me Harry."

Pansy actually snorted while trying to contain her laughter. Harry- no,  _ Potter _ \- frowned at her.

"Sorry, Parkinson, we're not that close yet. But I'm sure we can be friends too," Potter's frowned turned into a hopeful smile. It was Pansy's turn to be surprised and Draco's turn to smirk. Potter suddenly began leaning forward and fell. Draco caught him before he knocked over anything.

"Merlin, Potter-" Draco began, but saw Potter's glare. "Sorry,  _ Harry _ . What did you drink?"

"Firewhiskey. I don't drink it a lot though, so that's probably why it's having more of an effect on me." He tried to stand, but toppled again. Draco grabbed his arm. "Sorry," Potter was laughing.

"Pans, I'll see you later alright?" Draco glared at Pansy, who was red in the face with silent laughter. "I'm going to take Scarhead back up to the castle."

Pansy nodded her goodbye as Draco wrapped one arm around Potter's waist, draping Potter's arm around Draco's shoulders. The pair walked out of Honeydukes with some difficulty and then started making their way up to the school.

"You are  _ freezing _ , Draco."

Draco's insides froze. Well, since his outsides already were. Something about the way Potter had said his first name has made his heart skip a beat. It was nice to hear it in the tone he had used, not the spitting tone he had used when they were younger.

He instantly felt bad but knew that Potter (Harry, maybe Draco could call him Harry), couldn't walk on his own. So he'd have to deal with Draco's stone cold chill until they could let go of each other. 

Harry (yes, he supposed he could call him Harry), was warm, despite the chilling winds. Draco's side that was pressed up against Harry's side was stone and could not feel the heat, but his arm that was wrapped around Harry's waist could feel the heat radiating off of him. 

"Sorry," Draco said quickly. Harry babbled on about Quidditch and his homework for Herbology and didn't really wait for Draco to answer, so Draco ignored him the whole walk back. When they reached the entrance hall, Draco made sure Harry could stand on his own before stepping away quickly, not wanting to make Harry cold.

"I could help you up to Madam Pomfrey, if you'd like-" Draco began, but Harry was shaking his head, his emerald eyes wide.

"No, Merlin, that would be so embarrassing. She's treated my falls from the skies and my dragon wounds so I'd rather her not have to treat something as silly as my drunk-ness. Let's just go to the common room."

So, Draco obliged and only held Harry's arm when he tripped up a step. They reached the common room, and it was thankfully empty, since everyone was at Hogsmeade. Harry sunk into his favorite chair in front of the fire and Draco sat in the one opposite of him.

Then, he asked the question that had been nagging him. "Why'd you get drunk, Po- Harry?" Saying his name felt as weird as hearing Harry say his own did. It was new, it was different, and it wasn't  _ bad _ .

Harry shrugged before actually answering. "I was with couples. Ron and Hermione. Neville and Luna. Ginny was there, but I didn't miss her. Not like that. I'm glad we've broken up because I think we work better as friends. But... I'm just confused."

"Oh?" Draco asked, interested, but it was clear Harry was not going to say more on the matter. Not now, at least. So, Draco asked the other question Harry had failed to answer the other day. "Do you still get panic attacks?"

Harry let out a bitter laugh not unlike one Draco himself would do. "Yeah. I get them, like, every other day. And the best part is, I don't even know  _ why _ ."

Draco frowned, thinking about why he used to get them. The answer was awful, but simply. He was terrified. Every day as a child, he was scared of his father. He studied Harry, who's glasses reflected the firelight. The war was over. What could  _ he _ be afraid of?

"You're scared," Draco said, and when Harry glared at him and opened his mouth to either insult or argue, Draco added quietly, "That's why I used to get them."

Harry watched Draco before nodding and whispering, "I knew it. You knew how to stop it, and I had a feeling it was because you'd gotten them before. Why? When?" He asked, but Draco wasn't ready to talk. Pansy, Blaise, and Theo barely knew anything about his childhood. He wasn't ready to confide in  _ Potter _ of all people.

"We're talking about you," Draco shook his head. "Maybe we can stop them- your panic attacks- if we can identify the cause of them."

Draco's eyebrows came down in a frown as Harry gazed at him. "Can you stop that?" The blond snapped.

"We...." Harry whispered.

Rolling his eyes, Draco asked, "What?"

"You- you said  _ we _ can stop my panic attacks. The both of us. Together." Harry was watching Draco carefully as though he expected him to jump up and say that he didn't actually want to be near Harry now or ever again.

"You're drunk," Draco shook his head.

"Draco," Harry said slowly, and Draco's head snapped up and he looked at Harry. "I'm not drunk, I'm  _ tipsy _ . I can still think for myself. And you said together."

"I never said together,  _ you _ said together," Draco fidgeted in his chair. Harry stuck out his bottom lip and his eyes widened. He was pulling the puppy dog face. "Absolutely not Potter, I'm not one of your  _ fans _ , you can't  _ woo _ me with-"

But Harry was already getting out of his chair and was standing in front of Draco's, his hands leaning on the armrests on either side of Draco. "Draco, pleaseeeee," He whined like a child. "Help me get rid of my panic attacks. I'll love you forever."

Something clicked, whether it clicked in Draco's heart or head or both, it didn't matter, but Draco had a basic understanding of what was going on. If things kept going like this, he will fully fancy Harry Potter by this time next month.

His mind instantly went to the curse. But then he frowned and pushed the thought away. Fancying someone and being wholeheartedly in  _ love _ with them were two very different things. And, even if he ever could love Harry Potter like that (which he couldn't), Harry wouldn't feel the same. He's straight- he was just with the Weasley girl.

"You say we'll do this together?" Draco smirked. "Don't be lazy, Potter."

"Together. I'm always lazy, Malfoy," Harry grinned and stood up straight.

• • •

And lazy he was.

Over the next week before the brief Halloween break, all the students of Hogwarts could talk about was the fact that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy spent a lot of time together. And they weren't fighting. They were grinning and joking and walking around the school civilly.

"Harry  _ think _ ," Draco closed his eyes and rubbed his temples as he lay across one of the couches in the common room. "What makes you scared?"

Draco was hit in the face with a pillow Harry had thrown. He scowled and sat up straight, choosing to ignore how uncomfortable it felt doing so with a stone middle. "What was that for?" he exclaimed.

"We've been going over the same question for days, Draco. I'm afraid of things, yes, but nothing that would randomly trigger a panic attack in the middle of a day at Hogwarts." Harry walked over and grabbed Draco's legs, pulling them off the couch so he could sit.

Unfazed, Draco just raised his legs up again and dropped them on Harry's lap. "Maybe you have a fear you don't know about. Maybe something makes you scared but you don't want or don't know how to admit it."

The few other eighth years in the common room looked at the exchange between the former Gryffindor and Slytherin with surprise but said nothing. It seemed normal to Draco and Harry, who had grown much closer since Harry's tipsy incident.

And no one bothered to say anything bad about Draco anymore. That is, not to Harry or Draco's face, at least.

"Listen, I'm just saying- think about it," Draco sighed as he stood.

Harry instantly protested. "Where are you going?"

Draco lifted an eyebrow but refrained from smirking. "I'm going home for the holiday. Got to pack. And I think you have some other people you haven't been giving enough attention to recently." Draco pointed a finger to Granger and Weasley, who were sitting and whispering by the window, watching Harry and Draco.

"You're going home?" Harry frowned, standing as well.

"Yes," Draco said simply, and fought down a shiver as he felt the stone creep and inch lower down his stomach and up his chest. "I've got to see mother. You can use the weekend to figure out this newfound fear of yours, yeah?" Draco smirked as Harry's shoulders sagged.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, then seemed to fight a brief internal battle before holding out his hand. "Well, until after the holidays, Malfoy."

Instead of feeling hurt at the use of his last name, Draco saw the playful look in Harry's eyes and shook his head. "You're ridiculous," He muttered, but shook Harry's hand. "Until then, Potter."

Harry smiled and Draco watched as Harry made his way over to Granger and Weasley before he turned and headed up to his dormitory.

Ron and Hermione eyed Harry as he approached them cautiously. "Well, look who finally decided to join us," Ron glared at him.

"Ron," Hermione said threateningly, then looked at Harry. "Harry, are you going to tell us what you've been doing with Malfoy all week?"

He thought about it. He wanted to tell them, he really did, but he truly didn't want to worry them. Not now anyways, when him and Draco were planning to stop them. Maybe after. "I'm sorry," Harry told his friends. "I can't. Not yet, anyways."

"What're you- shagging him?" Ron asked, humor softening the blow as laughter danced at his lips.

Harry instantly turned red. "What? No!" Although, for some reason his face heated up the same way it did when he thought about kissing Cho three years ago. And same for two years ago when he thought of Ginny that way. 

That familiar feeling of what they call butterflies exploded in Harry's stomach but was replaced with dread. "Harry? Are you alright?" Hermione was asking him. He just nodded and then took off, heading up to their dorm room.

Did he- did he  _ fancy _ Draco Malfoy?

He couldn't, he- he had never liked a boy before, but... that didn't mean that it wasn't possible. He supposed that yes, Draco was indeed very attractive and Harry had always thought so. Even during school, when they hated each other. But he had never fancied Draco, how could he?

But, Draco had changed. Draco wasn't  _ Malfoy _ anymore. He wasn't the arrogant git that Harry couldn't stand to be in the same room with. He was Draco, someone who wanted to help Harry, someone who cared. He was someone who knew his mistakes and wanted to fix them.

"Bloody hell," Harry sighed, dropping onto his bed. He didn't even know if Draco was straight or not.

Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe these were just stupid feelings that didn't mean anything. But, even still, he had the weekend away from Draco to think about it. He had the weekend to mull over the fact that he might not be straight.


	5. I Want To Feel

Pansy barged into Draco, Blaise, and Theo's dormitory bright and early the next day. However, when Draco cast a  _ Tempus _ , he realized that it very much was not early and that they were very much behind schedule.

"Ugh, who let  _ her _ have the password to our room," Blaise groaned, shoving his pillow over his face.

Theo lifted the pillow that was already covering his face. " _ You _ did, Zabini!"

Draco laughed to himself as he got out of bed and stretched. He had become more open within the past week he had spent with Harry. Harry radiated happiness and light and it was hard not to feel the same.

He had felt a lot more recently. He expected to return to Hogwarts for this school year and feel even more numb than he had after the war ended, but he wasn't. He was feeling a million emotions a day and it was because of Harry. And his friends, of course, but Draco didn't think he would be able to get here without Harry. 

"You know," He told the group that was getting ready before him, "You don't have to come."

"Shut up, Draco," Pansy grinned and kissed Draco's cold cheek. He pretended to ignore her shiver as she pulled away.

Theo threw on a shirt and packed a couple more in his bag. "Yeah, mate, we're going to the Manor with you. No getting out of this one."

"We want to see Narcissa more than hang out with you, really, but-" Blaise joked, but was cut off when Draco chucked a pillow his way. The group held idle conversation as they packed up for the weekend and exited the dorm, heading down to the common room.

The common room was fairly empty with people either sleeping in on the bright Saturday morning or down to breakfast already. It was quiet besides the few conversations scattered about the room.

That is, it was quiet until Harry Potter came crashing into the common room from the steps leading up to his dorm. He didn't have his glasses on and his hair was even more untidy than usual and his breathing was heavy. For a second Draco started, worried he was having a panic attack, but then stopped when he realizes Harry was just being stupid. And making a fool of himself.

Draco arched one eyebrows and his mouth twitched, aching to smirk, but he held back. "Harry," he drawled.

Harry seemed to realize what he had done and stood upright, looking slightly to the side of where Draco's face really was, since he didn't have his glasses on. "Draco," Harry breathed, relieved. "I caught you."

Pansy and Blaise shared a look behind Draco's back as Draco looked at Harry, confused. "What?"

"You didn't leave yet," Harry's smile grew in relief. "So- here." He reached forward and grabbed Draco's hand before Draco could stop him. "Merlin, Malfoy, your hands are freezing! Are you always so cold?"

Draco offered him a shaky grin. "Yes," was all he said. Draco was more on the fact that Harry was holding his hand and he could feel the heat coming from Harry's hand. Draco was shocked- he had almost forgotten what body heat felt like.

Not that he was feeling true body heat. He wasn't taking in the heat that normal people do when they hold hands. He was feeling it from Harry, but Draco's was still icy. Like Harry was holding a stone.

Harry pressed a paper into Draco's hand. "I, uh, well- er...." He trailed off, looking behind Draco the best he could without his glasses at Pansy, Blaise, and Theo. "Just.. read it. On your own, please."

Eyeing the folded paper, Draco nodded and said softly, "Yeah. Yeah, alright."

Harry smiled once more and watched Draco for a second before quickly turning and heading back into his dorm. Draco watched him go, a small smile on his face, before turning back to his friends with raised eyebrows.

He knew those looks and pushed them to the door and out to the hall. "Not here," he muttered.

So, they waited until the common room door swung shut behind them and then the three of them rounded on Draco. " _ Harry Potter _ ?" Pansy hissed. "You're flirting with  _ Harry Potter _ ?"

Draco's mouth opened and he violently shook his head. "No! I'm not  _ flirting _ with Harry Potter, would you three stop acting like children?"

Theo was shaking his head in disbelief as Blaise said, "I have never seen Potter so downright... what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Giddy," Theo shivered, and Blaise nodded.

"He was not  _ giddy _ ," Draco spat. "Now, if you three are done being utterly ridiculous, I'd like to see my mother."

When Harry pushed open the door to the dorm, Ron noticed Harry's mood change immediately. "Hey, mate, what's got you all giddy?" He smirked as Harry dropped down at his bed and then glared at Ron. He saw Hermione sitting on her own bed looking at him the same way Ron was.

"I am  _ not _ giddy!" Harry exclaimed.

Hermione grinned and leaned forward. "Oh yes you are, Harry James Potter, and Ron and I would like to know why."

Frowning, Harry tried to decide why he felt so...  _ bubbly _ inside. When he felt Draco's hand, it was freezing. So why in Merlin's beard did he feel  _ warm _ inside. 

Maybe it was Draco's face. Harry had already established that he found Draco attractive, but his face when he had seen Harry... he had smiled instead of smirked and spoke softly instead of teasing. Draco definitely had changed, and Harry was terrified.

"Ron," Harry said suddenly, facing his friend. "Do you think Draco Malfoy is attractive?"

Ron was taken aback. "Malfoy?  _ Attractive _ ?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. "Forget the fact that you don't like him. Do you think he's hot?"

Stammering, Ron shook his head. "No, mate, I- no." Dread filled Harry as he turned to Hermione. "And you?" He prompted.

She, too, was surprised. "Well, yes, I'll admit Malfoy isn't bad looking," she said, ignoring Ron's sounds of protest. "But, Harry, what's this all really about?"

Harry fell back onto his bed, all these new and petrifying thoughts circling through his head. 

But, he had confirmed it when he put it in writing on the piece of paper he had given Draco. He was bisexual. He took a deep breath and repeated it over and over again as if it would steady his heartbeat.

It didn't.

• • •

"Why aren't you eating?" Hermione glared at Harry as he stabbed his fork in his food. It was Halloween night and the trio had decided to stay at Hogwarts. They were eating in the Great Hall, and usually, Harry loved the Halloween feasts.

Ron sure did. He never stopped eating on the daily, but Halloween was especially worse since the plates filled with the usual food, but also served candy and even more deserts than it did every night. So, per usual, Ron was stuffing his face when he looked up across the table at his best friend and his girlfriend.

Harry shrugged and let his fork clatter onto his plate. When Ron and Hermione didn't look away, he sighed and said, "I want to go to Godric's Hollow."

"I"m having déjà vu," Hermione muttered. Harry winced and thought back to when he and Hermione had almost died the last time they went there. "But... yeah, I think we should go. After all, tonight is..."

"Seventeen years since they died, yeah," Harry nodded. Ron and Hermione shared one of those looks where they have a silent conversation about Harry while he's sitting right next to them. "Guys, I'm fine. I want to go."

Ron was the first to stand, probably wanting to prove he cared about more than food. "I'm sure McGonagall will approve, but let's go check." Harry nodded and he and Hermione stood, following Ron up to the High Table where all the professors sat. McGonagall, sat in the golden middle chair designated for Headmistress or Headmaster, saw the trio approaching and stood.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall," Harry greeted. "We want to visit Godric's Hollow." He said firmly.

McGonagall nodded, understanding. She knew the story, they didn't have to explain anything to her. "Yes... I do believe it's alright for you to go for a few hours, since you're of age. Be back by midnight, though. You may use the floo in my office. The password is Pumpkin Fizz."

The three nodded their thanks and Hermione steered the boys away and past the tables that held plates that were now holding the deserts. "Honestly, you two," she huffed. "Always thinking with your stomachs."

Hermione and Ron respectively kept their distance as Harry approached his parent's grave. He had told them they could come up with him, trying to remind them that this wasn't a sad visit. Harry wasn't sobbing over the stone that bears James and Lily's names. He simply wanted to visit them tonight.

But, he was relieved when they said they'd wait at the gate for him. Harry waved his wand like Hermione had done what seemed like forever ago, and a small bouquet of flowers appeared. Red and green ones, like always. Red for dad's Gryffindor, green for mum's eyes. Harry plucked the flowers from the air and placed them at the foot of the grave.

_ James and Lily Potter _

_ Born March 27th and January 30th 1960 _

_ Died October 31st 1981 _

"Hope you guys are doing well," Harry whispered, hating how his eyes began to sting. "Say hello to Sirius and Remus for me. And Fred, of course. I'm sure you love Fred, he's a lot like you, Dad. Always causing trouble."

Harry glanced back to Ron and Hermione, who were holding each other's arms. They gave him encouraging nods, and he looked back at the grave. "I... I'm doing alright, I think. I realized that I'm..." He stopped. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Not yet, at least. So he thought it.

_ I'm bisexual. _

"Yeah, so that's kind of scary..." Harry breathed. "Who knows, I might even have feelings for Draco Malfoy. I know, Malfoy, my childhood enemy. Well, I think you'd approve of how he turned out. I think you'd approve of how _I_ turned out."

He stopped as he heard Ron and Hermione approaching. He felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder as he stood and sniffed a little, wiping his eyes. "Thanks for coming here," he whispered, smiling at his friends.

"Of course, Harry," Hermione smiled softly back.

Ron grinned and squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Want to head back now? It's getting late."

With one last look at the grave, Harry nodded and held on to his friends, apparating them back to school.

Draco Malfoy had a very different Halloween than Harry did. It started when his friends all apparated from Hogsmeade to the Manor and were hustled inside by his mother. They all sat and caught Narcissa up with school things as they ate lunch in the dining hall.

Then, Pansy, Blaise, and Theo had headed into the sitting room as Draco spoke to his mother alone. Draco approached her cautiously, both of them knowing why he hadn't hugged her hello. The last time she hugged him he was all human, and he wanted her to have that as the last memory of a hug from him. Not her arms around a cold, stone, torso.

But, that's not when he wanted to discuss right now. "Mother..." he said slowly, and took a deep breath. "I- I'm gay." He winced after he said it, not sure how she would take it. Would she be upset about the bloodline? Father would be.

Narcissa wasn't upset. In fact, a large smile spread over her features as she reached her arms out, "Oh, honey, that's wonderful!" Draco edged away. "The curse..." She trailed off, her smile falling.

"I don't want your last hug from me to be stone, so it's better if we don't hug again," He said quietly. "It's spreading. It's reached past my ribs, and," he tugged down the collar of his shirt where the stone had reached the base of his collarbones, "and it's starting to go all around my sides to my back, too."

His mother was quiet, blinking back her tears and steadying her voice before she spoke. "And you don't... feel anything for anyone, do you?" Draco appreciated that she refrained from using the word  _ love _ . He was growing to hate it, really.

Harry popped into his head. He pushed the thought right back out. Harry was not going to save his life for a third time. He did not love Harry and Harry did not love him, and it would be better if he'd stop thinking about it. If he stopped creating false hope.

"No, mother," Draco said, his voice as cold as he felt. "I'm sorry to say that I don't feel anything."

It was true. He had begun to feel again around Harry, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. He wouldn't open up and be vulnerable and have fun and  _ feel _ . Not when his days were limited and he would be reduced to rock in the next few months.

"I'll just be a minute, tell the others I'll be down shortly," Draco said, and then left the dining hall to go to his bedroom. It may be one of the last times he gets to see it. This thought made him sad. He ignored it, just like all the others.

Instead, he did what he's been dying to do the moment Harry had pressed the paper into his hand. He opened it. He was alone now, and Harry had wanted him to open it when he was alone. It was a note. A very messy, a very rushed, a very nervous-looking note.

~~_ Malfoy _ ~~ _ , Draco, _

_ Bloody hell I don't know what I'm doing here, so just bear with me, alright? Alright. _

_ I'm bisexual. _

~~_ Holy Merlin's saggy left _ ~~

_ Wow. I just wrote that. I wrote it. I said it. Well- I haven't said it out loud. But it's true and I just realized it and I'm scared and I don't know why I'm telling you of all people but I think this is why I'm having panic attacks. _

_ The reason I haven't told Ron and Hermione about them is because I don't want them to worry about me. So, instead, I worry about myself. Meaning I'm always thinking of things that scare me, meaning I'm always prone to an attack. I think a lot about how after this year of school is over, Ron and Hermione are moving in together and I'm so scared that they're going to forget about me. _

_ I know they won't, of course, and I know I'm overreacting. But still, I think about that a lot. _

_ Then there's this new discovery of mine that I only just realized and beyond petrified to tell them about this. What if they hate me? What if you hate me?  _ ~~_ I don't think I could stand you hating me anymo _ ~~

_ Please don't hate me. I'm still Harry. I'm still the Harry you're friends with. Well, if you are. I like to think we are, but I don't know what you think of our situation. Maybe you hate me anyways. If you do, just add this to the list of things you can use to blackmail me with. _

_ I never hated you, Draco. I hated how I couldn't hate you. _

_ All those years at school I never hated you. I hated how you were so confident in everything you did. You never thought twice and everyone knew your name and you thrived in the public, social setting. I envied that. I wish popularity came as easily to me as it did to you. _

_ Not because I liked being popular. But because you knew how to handle it and I didn't. Sure, you handled it in a pretty git-ish way, but still, you handled it. _

_ And I don't hate you now, Draco. I think you're the most interesting person in the school. _

_ I think you're the person with the loudest voice, but nobody wants to listen. _

_ But I will. I'll listen, if you let me. _

_ Your Favorite Hero, _

_ Harry Potter _ .

With shaking hands, Draco dropped the letter onto his desk and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Through is white shirt, he could see the faint outline of the stone covering him. He gulped and looked back at the letter.

Harry Potter was bisexual. Harry Potter never hated Draco. Harry Potter wants to hear Draco's story.

_ Fuck numbness, _ Draco thought.  _ Fuck not feeling. _

He walked over to the mirror and pulled his shirt off, staring at his stone middle.

"I want to feel," He whispered to himself.

• • •

Harry could not explain the feeling inside him the day Draco came back to Hogwarts if he tried. His hands were shaking and he was sweating and he was so,  _ so _ nervous. Which, in that case, led him to another panic attack.

Moaning Myrtle didn't even bother making a comment as she always does when people enter her bathroom. She saw the state Harry was in and kept quiet. This panic attack was probably his worst one yet, and it wasn't stopping. He tried to do what he always does- he held his breath and tried to stop it, but it wasn't working. Not when he was already so worked up about seeing Draco after giving him that stupid letter.

"Oh you really ought to see this! Harry  _ Potter _ is dying in here- do you think he'd share my bathroom with me?" Harry heard Myrtle talking to someone and whipped around to see Draco rushing into the bathroom, eyes wide.

If Harry wasn't so scared, he would have focused on the fact that the last time they were in a bathroom together, Harry had almost killed Draco. He supposed this was his payback, him running out of air in a bathroom in front of Draco.

Who, by the looks of it, wasn't really thinking about the  _ Sectumsempra _ incident right now. He walked over to Harry cautiously. "Harry, breathe. Do what you've been doing, try to take deep breaths."

Harry shook his head helplessly, and after Draco seemed to fight an internal battle, he reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulders, making him face Draco. Harry gasped, the cold from Draco's hand almost unbearable. Then he realized that the gasp had granted him control over his breathing again, and that had been Draco's plan.

"Okay, deep breaths, now," Draco told him, and Harry nodded, his eyes locked on Draco's as he slowly breathed in and out. When he was finally back to normal, Draco released his icy grip on Harry and took a step back. "Harry, that was bad. Why in Merlin's beard were you so upset?"

But Harry couldn't form words. Draco was looking at him the same way he had looked at Harry before Halloween. Harry felt hopeful when he realized that Draco might not have read the letter at all.

"Was it..." Draco began, not quite meeting Harry's eyes. "Was it because of the letter?"

It was a miracle Harry didn't spiral into another attack. He still couldn't speak, so he just watched Draco carefully as he nodded. Draco nodded too and Harry finally found the right words to say. "I was... worried. I didn't want to face you, in case you, well, hated me."

Draco quickly looked up at Harry. "I don't hate you," he said quietly. "I'm proud of you for telling me, and I'm glad that you trust me enough to tell me. Which, I think it's only fair that you know," Draco was definitely not meeting Harry's eyes now. "I'm, um, well, I'm gay." He said firmly, and then glanced at Harry.

Harry was shocked. He wasn't upset or mad at all, but he was thoroughly shocked. Draco Malfoy, always raving about his pureblood bloodline, was gay. And he accepted Harry and didn't hate him. Slowly, Harry broke into a smile of relief. "I- thank you. Thank you for not hating me, and thank you for trusting me." He said.

A smirk covered Draco's face. "Alright, well, Scarhead, I think you've had enough drama for one morning, yeah? Let's go to breakfast."

"Whatever you say, ferret," Harry winked and led the way to the Great Hall.

• • •

Professor Binns was still as boring as ever, even after another war had just happened. All the students dropped their heads on their desks, preparing to sleep as always in his class, when he announced that he was going to be doing something different.

"We're going to start a project today," The ghost droned, and Draco shared a confused look with Pansy, who was next to him. "I will be separating you into pairs and you will have two weeks to work with your partner to research and create a presentation on one historic moment in Wizarding history. In a couple weeks you will present your research to the class."

Pansy leaned over to whisper to Draco. "Want to do the day Hogwarts was founded?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "No. That's boring and I'm sure everyone else is going to do that."

They didn't have any more time to discuss, however, because they soon realized that Professor Binns was reading names off of a list for the partners. "Macmillan and Boot. Bones and Bulstrode. Thomas and Finnigan."

Mostly everyone was zoning out until they heard their name. Well, that's what Draco did, until his head snapped up when he heard who he had been paired with.

"Zabini and Abbott. Granger and Nott. Parkinson and Potter. Weasley and Malfoy."

The former Gryffindors and Slytherins slowly turned to look at each other. Harry was grinning at Pansy, who blinked at him. Granger nodded politely to Theo, who returned one. Draco and Weasley were staring at each other open mouthed and wide eyed, too shocked to do much.

"Now that everyone knows who they're working with, you can all go sit with your partners and discuss your plans for the rest of class," Binns told the students before sinking back into his chair.

Harry levitated his chair to the other side of Pansy and Draco's table, right across from Pansy, and sat down in it, still grinning widely. "Potter, you're scaring me, why are you so happy about this?"

"Because," Harry shrugged and leaned back in his chair, "We can finally be friends like I told you in Hogsmeade."

Pansy turned to Draco, who was biting his lip to stop himself from smiling. Harry looked at him, his eyes still shining hopefully. That made Draco unable to stop his smile as he turned to Pansy. "Well? You heard him. Pansy meet Harry, Harry meet Pansy."

"Since when are you two on a first name basis?" Weasley muttered as he levitated his chair next to Harry and across from Draco. Draco's smile fell and he scowled at the ginger and he opened his mouth to argue, but Harry stopped him.

"Please don't argue. You guys can use this project to finally hear each other out and stop arguing," Harry shrugged, and then turned to Granger, who had moved her chair to the other side of Harry, across from Theo.

Weasley was watching Draco through narrowed eyes. "You know, Malfoy, I have an idea for what historic event we can do for this thing."

Draco glared at him. "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

With a smirk, Weasley leaned his elbows on the table and said, "The day Harry was born."

This silenced the rest of the table. Even Blaise, who had been in his own conversation with Abbott had looked over. Weasley leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, seeming to think that he had won this round. He hadn't.

Smirking as well, Draco leaned forward and said, "Okay."

Weasley's arms uncrossed as he looked surprised. "What?"

"I said okay. You want to do the day Harry was born," Draco glanced at Harry, who was wide-eyed, "I agree."

"O-okay," Wealsey stuttered then glared at Draco as though it was his fault he was at a loss for words. "Fine. Let's do it."

The pair glared at each other a moment more before looking away. This was not going to end well.

• • •

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected when he was paired with Pansy Parkinson. If he was being brutally honest, he thought she was going to be the same, well,  _ bitch _ that she had been when she had tried to capture Harry to give to the Dark Lord.

He didn’t, however, expect the silence. It wasn’t rude silence, nor uncomfortable. It was just silence. She didn’t have much to say, and instead, hit Harry with too many scrutinizing gazes.

Clearing his throat as they sat together in a corner of the eighth year common room, Harry spoke up. “Er- do I have something on my face?”

Pansy leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing slightly as her hand absentmindedly ran through her hair. She just shook her head.

Well, if she wasn’t going to talk, Harry might as well have some fun with her silence. “Listen, I know I’m fairly attractive, but we need to get to work.”

That got a reaction. Her hand fell and her eyebrows jumped up. “Funny, Potter, but I wouldn’t think that of you if my life depended on it.” And with that, she went right back to her still-faced reticence. 

Pansy Parkinson. What a person to be paired with. Harry fell back against his chair, watching her. The way her finger twirled her hair without seeming to realize it. The way she would stare at something and her face would slacken, making Harry wonder where her mind went during these moments. Because, seconds after her blank look, an expression of disgust or sorrow or anything would appear before it receded again.

And, Harry thinks, he knows less about all of the Slytherins than he realizes. And the only way to learn more is to ease into their trust.

“No, no I understand,” he says suddenly, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’d probably die from the amount of gloriousness I radiate.”

With a great rush of satisfaction, Pansy Parkinson broke into a slight grin at Harry’s joke before smirking. “Your ego is larger than those cretinous glasses you wear,” she rolled her eyes. “Now, I don’t want to deal with that anymore, so I suppose we can work on the project now.”

“Brilliant!” Harry grinned, feeling accomplished. “What moment in history do you want to do? I was thinking something to do with war, maybe Voldemort, or the first Wizarding War-”

“No,” Pansy cut him, looking rather pale. “I’m not doing any wars, Potter. Not when- not when I…” She relapses back into a strained silence in which Harry has no doubt her mind is racing with words she cannot bring herself to say.

Harry understands. Well, frankly, no, he won’t ever understand the former Death Eater’s reasoning or choices. But, he takes one glance at the inky serpent tail peeking out from under Pansy’s sleeve, then another glance at the white  _ I must not tell lies _ on his own.

So, yes, Harry supposes, he does understand. And he tells her that.

“I don’t know exactly how you feel,” he begins cautiously, “but I don’t like the war much either. I understand.”

Pansy’s face says all too clearly that she thinks he doesn’t understand her. And, perhaps, he doesn’t. But she accepts it either way.

“The Salem Witch Trials.”

Harry blinks. “What?”

“I want to do the Salem Witch Trials.”

The Salem Witch Trials. Harry’s sure Professor Binns must’ve mentioned it during one of his seven years in that class, but then again, for the majority of the lessons he was usually asleep or playing hangman on spare parchment with Ron.

So, he nods. It’ll be good to do something new and have the opportunity to learn about it, and Pansy will be pleased that he agreed. Although, he doesn’t much care if Pansy is pleased or not. His mind wanders to Draco and decides that it will make Draco happy if his friends also like Harry.

But, Harry isn’t quite sure why that matters to him.

“Okay,” he says firmly, causing Pansy to blink in surprise. “The Salem Witch Trials. Let’s do it.”

With a look of consternation, Pansy nods. “Well, then, let’s get started,” she reaches out to the table in front of them and grabs her quill and parchment. “Starting with the basic facts, it happened in- what? The 1600’s?”

Harry knows this is his qeue to check the textbook. After expeditiously flipping through the pages, he finds the chapter. “1692,” he confirms.

Pansy drones on about the ‘basic facts’, as she had called them, and Harry catches a few words such as  _ North America _ ,  _ Puritans _ , and  _ Scourers _ .

Something (some _ one _ ) was distracting Harry from entirely listening. Green met silver when Harry’s eyes shifted up to look at Draco. The blond was seated across the room in another corner with Ron, a scowl dancing at his lips. Draco rolls his eyes at something Ron was talking passionately about and looks away, instantly turning to Harry instead.

Feeling himself go red for being caught watching, Harry looks away. When he glances back, Draco, however, is watching Harry with a trace of gaiety, his scowl fading away. He nods at Pansy and raises his eyebrow in question.

Glancing at the girl who was now pouring over her textbook, Harry quickly gives a thumbs up. Harry then spares a look at his ginger haired best friend, who was sourly writing notes down, and gives Draco the same inquisitive look.

Draco shakes his head and rolls his eyes once more, running an overtaxed hand through his hair, messing it up slightly.

It looks much better like that, Harry thinks. Yes, Draco’s hair looks better when he’s unguarded and isn’t slicking it back for his father like he had in first and second year. He had let go of that standard, refusing to live up to it.

_ Life is a balance of holding on and letting go. _

So, with a nod to Draco, Harry looks away, believing that maybe, just maybe, he’ll let go of his previous thoughts of Pansy Parkinson.

_ Holding on. _ He knows that, because of ink on skin and antecedent choices and judgements, he and Pansy Parkinson won’t ever have a perfectly normal and constant friendship.

_ Letting go. _ But, he decides, he will try. If not for him, if not for Pansy, then for Draco.

Because Harry made a promise to be better. And Draco Malfoy was growing on him.


	6. We Accept What We Think We Deserve

Draco tried to tell himself it was because of Pansy. It was because of  _ Pansy _ that he got so angry when he saw her and Harry Potter sitting together in a secluded corner of the common room. It was because of  _ Pansy _ that he stabbed his fork forcefully into his food every time Harry walked over to the Slytherin table during meals to go over notes with her. It was because of  _ Pansy _ that Draco could barely focus when he saw the two laugh at one of Harry’s stupid joke together, anger boiling in the fiery pits of his gut.

Yes, it was because of Pansy. Because Pansy was his best friend and he didn’t want Harry stealing her away from him.

Harry, who Draco thought of constantly. Harry, who had dazzling emerald green eyes. Those green eyes, which made Draco feel like butterflies swarmed inside his stomach when he met them. Butterflies, which erupted into fireworks when Draco’s hand brushed against Harry’s as they traded quills and high-fives.

So no, Draco sighed and accepted in defeat, it wasn’t because of Pansy. He knew Pansy would not replace him and Harry would not steal her. He was angry- no, _ jealous _ \- because Harry had made it clear he was bi. Meaning, he very well still fancies girls. Meaning he very well could fancy Pansy and Draco couldn’t do a damned thing about it.

“Ready, Draco?” Speaking of. Draco turned to face Harry, who was leaning against the doorframe of the blond’s dormitory.

Putting on a smirk that would hide his previous emotions, Draco walked out of the dorm, Harry following closely behind him. “I’ve got nothing to fear, Potter. Are  _ you _ ready?”

The pair (who now made it so usual to be seen together that no one spared them a second glance) crossed the common room and stepped out into the hallway. Draco frowned when he noticed Harry’s grin had fallen and he was a bit pale.

“Hey,” Draco said, reaching out to touch Harry’s arm, but pulling his hand back. That wouldn’t calm him, it would only freeze him. “You’re alright. You can do this.”

The action of reaching out hadn’t gone unnoticed by Harry, and Draco could tell by the way his green eyes lingered questioningly on Draco’s hand. But, he said nothing, letting his eyes wander back to Draco’s face, and gave him a firm nod.

“Lead the way,” Draco said quietly, falling back into silence. Harry swallowed and turned, guiding the way to their first destination.

Draco wondered if this was the right solution to Harry’s problem: his panic attacks. He had helped Harry devise a plan to go around and visit all of the places in the building that would trigger an attack.

Instead of speaking to fill the quiet air, Draco studied the back of Harry. The way that his hair, even at this view, stuck up at all ends. It had been like that ever since they were eleven, and probably before, too.

He can’t help but wonder, as he winces as stone creeps down his stomach, how things would have been if Harry had taken his hand.

_ I just wanted you to take my hand. _

Shaking his head, Draco pulls out of his thoughts when Harry stops abruptly at the base of a staircase. Draco frowns and steps up next to him, glancing down sideways at the young man next to him.

But in that moment, Harry looks nothing like the eighteen year old he is. Draco has only seen Harry like this once before, and even then it was unsettling. Now that Draco was actually quite fond of  _ Potter _ , it was downright unnerving to see him like this.

At the beginning of the year, a short eight months ago, Draco had watched as Fenrir Greyback and Scabior dragged Harry, Granger, and Weasley into his house. Into the sitting room where a child version of himself had once sat playing with toy broomsticks. The sitting room which now was home to a terrifying snake and coming and going Death Eaters.

Draco Malfoy had never seen Harry Potter afraid. He had always,  _ always _ , during their school years, been the gallant and bold Gryffindor everyone expected him to be. It was one of the reasons Draco couldn’t bear to stand around and watch like everyone else. Harry Potter was always, even if scared, calm and brave on the outside.

So when Draco was forced to walk up right in front of the boy he had envied his entire life and decide whether he would live or die, he saw the utter fear in Harry Potter’s eyes. And it made Draco feel as scared as Harry had looked. Harry had been helpless, the life of he and his friends resting in the hands of Draco. Draco, who had believed that if Harry was brave enough to face anything, the rest of them were, too.

But Harry Potter was not brave enough to face anything. Draco saw that the day at the Manor, and he sees it again, now, as Harry shakily breathes in and out as they stand at the foot of the staircase that holds no significance for Draco.

Harry closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. It’s Draco’s turn to stop breathing for a moment when, eyes still closed, Harry reaches out and takes Draco’s hand.

Shaking his head, Draco says quietly, “No, Harry, don’t. It’s- I’m painfully cold-”

“Shh,” Harry shushes him. “I don’t care. I just, I- I need… something. I need something to… hold on to.”

_ Hold me, hold me forever.  _

Draco doesn’t say this. Draco nods instead and waits for Harry’s next move, eyelids sliding up to reveal emeralds once more. Harry steps forward, bringing Draco with him. Together they ascend the stairs to the top, where Draco then recognizes the hallway the steps have led up to.

_ “If we die for them, Harry, I’m gonna kill you!” _

Weasley’s voice fills Draco’s mind. He can feel himself slamming onto the stone as him and Harry tumble off of the broom as the raging fiendfyre grows closer behind them. He can see Harry’s expression as he stumbles to his feet and runs away as fast as he can out into the hallway, Blaise following closely behind.

Out into the hallway the pair now stands, staring straight ahead. Draco can feel his iciness pouring onto Harry, can see him shiver, but if anything, Harry secures his grip on Draco’s hand.

“I should have stayed,” Draco whispers, knowing that’s why they’re there.

Harry shrugs, but Draco knows he doesn’t mean it. “We were all doing what we could to survive. You couldn’t let anyone see you and I helped each other.”

Draco shook his head. “I didn’t help you,” He blinks, a horrible knot tightening in his throat. “You stayed and almost died trying to save me.  _ Again _ . If you had died-”

“But I didn’t,” Harry looks at Draco, his gaze hard. “Thanks to you. You saved my life at the Manor and I saved yours right here. We didn’t owe each other anything. We still don’t.”

If only he knew. If only he knew how much Draco owes him. Harry testified for him, Harry helped him realize that he was on the wrong side of the war, Harry saved his life.

Harry made him  _ feel _ .

The words repeat in his head, though he meant to say them aloud.  _ I should have stayed. _

Draco tries to pull his hand away. Harry holds it tighter.

• • •

The first half of November melted away without much action. All eighth years were highly invested in their history projects, which turned out to be quite beguiling. In which, after some investigating, they all realized it had been McGonagall’s idea. Professor Binns could not have come up with that.

“Think it was McGonagall’s idea to put us together, too?” Weasley huffed as he sent Draco a glare as they flipped through the pages of  _ Modern Magical History _ ,  _ The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _ , and  _ Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century _ .

Draco scoffed. “Please, Weasley, if anyone should be complaining, it’s me. Now, stop whining and look for Harry.”

Weasley rifled through pages until he pointed at the title of a chapter;  _ The Boy Who Lived _ . Well, if that wasn’t Harry, Draco thought, then what was?

“Why  _ did _ you agree to do Harry’s birth for this anyways?” Weasley narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, studying Draco.

Unable to stop himself, Draco rolled his eyes. “Whether you like it or not, Weasley, Harry and I are… friends now. And I think it would make him happy if I got slightly along with his best mate.”

Hit with another skeptical gaze, Draco rolled his eyes. “I know it must be difficult to wrap your small-minded brain around this, but I’m not who I was before, or during, the war. And if you won’t listen to me, listen to Harry.

“Now, let’s start with Godric’s Hollow.”

• • •

Harry was proud of himself. And he knew he had every right to be. He and Draco had gone around to each of the parts in the school that induced his panic attacks. Harry had stood at each of them and gone over why they made him so worried and stressed every time he passed them. Then he told himself that the past is the past, and all he can go is move forward.

And he greatly appreciated Draco. Draco knew when to say reassuring things to Harry and when to just stand supportively in silence. Draco, whose ice cold hands seemed to bring Harry back to Earth and remind him he was still here.

Every time Harry held onto Draco’s hand desperately, the latter tried to pull away, stammering that he was too cold for Harry. In truth, the boy was, and Harry thought about bringing him to Madam Pomfrey. Draco declined and said that he was simply always cold. When he said that, he looked so sad that Harry wanted to wrap his arms around the blond and hold him until he was the warmest person in the world.

He didn’t.

Today wasn’t about Draco’s temperature, anyways. Today was about coming clean. Harry hadn’t had a panic attack for a week and a half and he decided that today was the day he was going to tell Ron and Hermione about them. And, while he’s at it, he decided to tell them about his sexuality, too.

Draco is sitting by the window, pouring over what Harry can see to be  _ Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century _ . Harry made his way over to him and cleared his throat, causing Draco to look up at Harry quickly.

“Reading about me now, Malfoy?” Harry smirked, and Draco rolled his eyes, taking his feet off of the window seat so Harry could sit next to him.

“Head full of arrogance, Potter,” Draco muttered, but continued reading. Harry sat quietly for a moment, studying Draco.

His head was tilted with interest, his lips turned down in a slight frown of concentration. The front of his platinum hair fell down past his eyebrows, hovering in front of his eyes, reminding Harry of how it had been when they were fifteen. His silver eyes flicking across the pages, draining every word. If you looked close enough, Harry thought, you could see traces of blue within them.

Draco let a smirk grow on his lips and, without looking up, teased Harry. “Watching me now, Potter?”

Feeling himself go red, Harry muttered something along the lines of  _ sod off _ , and turned to look out of the window instead. The eighth years had claimed the tower that looked out over the Black Lake.

“What was-”   
“Did you-”

Harry and Draco had begun their questions at the same time. They both stopped, looking at each other, before Harry burst out into a fit of laughter. Draco looked startled. But when Harry didn’t stop, Draco found himself laughing.

Soon they weren’t even laughing at the fact they had spoken at the same time. They were laughing about anything, everything. Draco was laughing for the first time in a long time. They finally stopped, wiping tears from their faces, their cheeks aching but grins unwavering.

“I haven’t laughed like that in forever,” Draco sighed, sparing Harry a smile before looking out of the window. “You can go first. What were you going to ask?”

Collecting himself, Harry dropped his grin and asked, “What was it like being underwater? In the Slytherin dorms? I mean, I’ve only been in their once-”

“What?” Draco raised his eyebrows, and Harry’s eyes widened. “When have you been in the Slytherin dorms?”

Harry smiled sheepishly. “Well, not the dorms, I was just in the common room for a bit-”

“ _ When _ ?” Draco cut him off, desperately wanting to hear this tale.

“Second year,” Harry said, smirking. Draco’s mouth opened, thoroughly surprised. “Yeah, back when we were trying to figure out who the Heir of Slytherin was. Ron and I thought it was you, so we brewed Polyjuice and disguised as Crabbe and Goyle and talked to you.”

Draco was at a loss for words. Finally, he ran his eyes over Harry with a sort of impressed expression. “Cunning, Potter, cunning. It was that night I found Crabbe and Goyle in the hall, right? And you were wearing your glasses. Blimey, I  _ knew _ Goyle couldn’t read! Maybe you should have been in Slytherin.”

Harry laughed and shook his head, sighing. “I was supposed to be in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat said I could have been great in it. But in the end, I asked for Gryffindor and it obliged.”

Shocked once again, Draco stared at Harry. “Are you joking? You could have been a Slytherin with me! We wouldn’t be enemies! We’d be classmates, we’d be friends, we’d- we’d be-” He stopped, not knowing what came after  _ friends _ with them.

“I kind of didn’t want to be your friend after what you said before the Sorting Ceremony to Ron, though, so…” Harry shrugged, and Draco frowned.

“Okay, yeah, fair enough. I was kind of a prat. But, to answer your question, it was very relaxing. Never too bright, never too quiet. It was perfect.” Draco answered quietly. “Can I ask my question or do you plan on interrupting me again?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “No, your highness, go ahead.”

With a smirk, Draco braced himself for the question before asking. “Did you- you lived with muggles, right?”

The playful smirk that had been on Harry’s face a moment before fell instantly as he slowly nodded. “Yeah. My aunt and uncle and cousin.”

Draco glanced down at the page on the textbook in his lap. It didn’t talk about these muggles much, but it mentioned that they didn’t seem to enjoy magic. “What was it like?” Draco asked carefully, sensing danger in Harry’s clenched jaw.

Harry turned away from Draco to look out of the window. He watched as a splash in the distance of the Lake sprayed water up- no doubt the squid. Was he ready to let Draco in on that part of his life? Hermione and the Weasley’s knew, of course, but Harry had never actually talked about it with anyone else before.

_ But I will. I'll listen, if you let me. _

Maybe, since Harry is willing to listen to Draco, Draco is willing to listen to Harry. He turns back to the blond, who is looking at Harry with an inquisitive yet gentle expression.

“They kept me in a cupboard under the stairs,” Harry says, and Draco tries, and fails, to hide his surprise. He said nothing, though, letting Harry continue. “They didn’t starve me, not exactly, but I got just enough to not be hungry all of the time. And eventually I was moved into my cousin’s spare bedroom, but that was only after they discovered I was accepted into Hogwarts, and if anything, they were afraid of me… well, at least Dudley stopped beating me up when that happened.”

Harry trailed off, unable to continue. He didn’t blame Dudley, even if Dudley blamed him. He had bullied Harry all through their childhood, but as they got older, the punches turned into simple verbal insults and threats. Other than that, they stayed out of each other’s way.

Not unlike Harry and Draco as time progressed, Harry thought.

Then he wondered if Dudley and him could have ever been real cousins. Cousins that begged for sleepovers and grew up to love each other like brothers, not despise one another. Cousins that would look forward to family events just so they could hang out.

Maybe they could have. Maybe, in another universe, Harry’s parents were alive and Remus and Sirius came around for dinner almost every night and Petunia outgrew her childish jealousy and made Vernon accept her side of the family. Maybe, Dudley watched in wonder as Harry performed magic for him and played football in backyards when they saw each other.

But that was not the universe Harry lived in.

“Oh, Harry,” Draco whispered, reaching out, and Harry realized a few tears had begun streaming down his face. He assumed that Draco had reached out to clear the tears away, but didn’t, because of his temperature.

Thankful for something else to mention, Harry joked, “Why are your hands so cold, Draco? Why won’t you let me take you to Madam Pomfrey?” He grinned, hastily wiping his eyes.

Draco wasn’t fazed. “Harry…” he trailed off. “I’m so sorry.”

Harry waved his hand. “Nonsense. You didn’t know me. Plus, I had to go there anyways in order to stay alive.”

“You didn’t deserve that,” Draco frowned.

“And you,” Harry, ignoring Draco’s noise of protest, grabs Draco’s left arm and turns it upwards, revealing the Dark Mark, “didn’t deserve  _ this _ .”

Draco fights a very strong urge to grab Harry and kiss him right on the lips. Then he shakes his head a bit, the thought of kissing Harry striking him as absurd. 

“What did you come over here for in the first place, anyways?” Draco quickly changes the subject, gently pulling his arm from Harry’s grip.

A lightbulb seems to ignite in Harry’s head, and he nervously bites his lip. “I- I want to tell Ron and Hermione. About the panic attacks. And about my sexuality.”

Draco felt a flash of smugness, knowing Harry trusted him first with these things, but it died away quickly. Of course Harry will want to tell his best friends. “Okay,” Draco nodded. “When did you want to do it?”

“Today.”

Oh.

“And I want you to be there with me.”

_ Oh _ .

Shifting uncomfortably, Draco says, “Are you sure? I feel like I’d be interrupting that moment for you. I mean, they’re your best mates-”

“I want you there, Draco. You were the first person I told, and you- you keep me grounded,” Harry mutters, glancing out the window as a light blush dusted his cheeks.

Draco couldn’t stop the smile that grew on his face. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

• • •

Harry was wringing his hands nervously, pacing back and forth in front of Draco, who was standing and leaning against a bookshelf, his arms crossed. They were waiting for Ron and Hermione, and then Harry would tell them. He was starting with the panic attacks.

Footsteps came down the aisle, and a moment later Harry’s two best friends were walking towards him and Draco, confused and worried expressions on their faces.

“Harry, are you alright?” Hermione asks.

Ron narrows his eyes as he approaches, glaring at Draco. “Did this git do something?”

Draco rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to argue, but Harry held his hand up, stopping him. “No, Ron. I- I have to tell you and Hermione something.” Harry hesitates, looking to Draco, who smiles a little and nods encouragingly. “Okay, well, there’s two things. The first is that I’ve been having panic attacks ever since we got back to Hogwarts.”

Hermione let out a little gasp. “Harry! Oh, were they terrible? You know, I read somewhere that sometimes a panic attack can be so bad that-”

“Mione,” Ron cuts her off, taking her hand. “Maybe now’s not the time for book references, yeah? Harry, mate, why didn’t you tell us? We would have helped you.”

Taking a step back, Harry bumped into the shelf Draco was leaning on, right next to him. Harry looked up at the taller boy, and Harry saw his hand twitch.

“I don’t care that you’re cold,” Harry muttered. Draco grinned a little and Harry turned back to his friends. “I didn’t want to burden you with it. You’ve spent all your years at Hogwarts worrying about me, I just wanted you to have fun this year.”

Hermione took a step towards Harry. “Harry we only worry because we care. How did you handle them? Are you alright? Do you still get them?”

Smiling a little, Harry shook his head. Typical of Hermione to ask a million questions. He answered them all. “I actually didn’t know how to handle them until Draco caught me in the middle of one on the first day of school. He told me to hold my breath and then take deep breaths, and that worked. I was alright because that was working, but if I got too nervous it wouldn’t help much. But, I don’t get them anymore.”

Ron looked bewildered. “Well- how did you stop them?”

“Draco and I went to each of the places that trigger the attacks and I took the time to think them over and be there without worrying,” Harry explained simply.

Hermione was nodding, but Ron was looking at Harry, then to Draco, then to their hands which Harry had linked, despite the cold. “And- and Malfoy helped you through the attacks?”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled a little. “I don’t know if I would have gotten over some of them if I didn’t have him with me.” Harry waited, afraid Ron was going to grow angry with either him or Draco.

But he didn’t. He just slowly nodded. “Oh. Well, thank you, Malfoy. For looking after Harry.” Draco looked stunned but just muttered a  _ you’re welcome _ .

“What’s the other thing?” Hermione asked. “You said you had to tell us two things.”

Fear spread through Harry like a virus. He gripped Draco’s hand tighter and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could tell them. But what if they hated him? What if they didn’t see him as Harry anymore and wanted nothing to do with him?

But, what if they accepted him? What if they loved him just as much- or possibly even  _ more _ after this? What if they were supportive like he’s sure they will be? There’s only one way to find out. Just say it. Harry steadies his breaths and looks Hermione and Ron in the eye in turn.

“I’m bisexual.”

The group of four were silent. Ron’s mouth was hanging slightly open, Hermione’s eyes were wide, Harry was chewing his lip anxiously, and Draco’s jaw was clenched, ready to argue with either of the Gryffindors if they said something rude.

To no one’s surprise, Hermione was the first to do anything. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Harry’s upper body. Harry let out a sigh of relief and let go of Draco’s hand so he could hug Hermione back. He felt tears stinging his eyes and soon enough they were dripping down onto Hermione’s shoulder.

Without pulling away, Hermione said, “Harry, I’m so proud of you. You’re my best friend, you know that? Nothing could ever change the way I think and feel about you.”

Smiling, Harry slowly pulled out of the hug, wiping his eyes. “Thank you, Mione,” he whispered. Then, fear still clutching at his heart, he looked to Ron. Harry’s heart dropped, Ron was still as shock-faced as before. “Ron- I- I’m sorry. You probably don’t even want to be near me anymore-”

“Mate, no, no,” Ron shook his head. “Don’t you dare even think that, Harry.” Ron stepped forward and strongly hugged Harry tighter than ever before. Harry let out a small sob before he hugged Ron tightly.

“I was so scared,” Harry whispered. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

Ron pulled away so Harry could look him in the eyes. “You’re my best mate, Harry. The one I sat with on the train on the first day of first year. The one that stuck by my side when you could have anyone you wanted as a friend. I love you, Harry.”

Harry shakily pulled Ron closer and hugged him again. Ron laughed a bit and opened up one side of the hug, letting in Hermione, whose shoulders were shaking with silent tears. “Get in here, you,” Ron said, and the three of them all held onto each other.

But something was bothering Harry. He turned his head to see Draco watching the trio with a sad smile on his face. Harry realized that, yes, Draco has Pansy and Theo and Blaise, but they probably aren’t as close as Harry is with Ron and Hermione. And if they are, it just happened after the war. Harry knew for a fact that at least in sixth year, Draco didn’t have anyone.

Ever the brilliant genius, Hermione noticed too. “Harry- did Malfoy know about this?” She asked, and the three pulled apart.

“Er-” Harry glanced at his friends before looking away. “Yes. Yes, I told him back at Halloween. I only just realized it myself and I wasn’t ready to tell you guys, but I had to tell  _ someone _ -”

“And he didn’t say anything rude about it? He’s, really,  _ truly _ , being a good friend to you, Harry?” Ron asked with narrowed eyes.

Harry nodded firmly. “Yes, Ron. Draco’s been an amazing… he’s been great.” Harry didn’t say friend. He wasn’t sure if that’s the stage they were at.

Ron nodded and turned to Draco. To everyone’s surprise, he held out his hand. “Point to you, Malfoy. I can tell you’ve really been there for Harry, and I’m grateful for that.”

Draco eyed Ron’s hand before shaking it. “I care about him, Weasley. I really do.”

It was funny to watch Ron’s eyes widen. “Oh, Merlin! Are you two- are you…?” He trailed off suggestively, and Harry and Draco instantly shook their heads.

“No, Merlin, no-”

“N-no! We- we aren’t-”

“Enough of that,” Hermione laughed, stopping the pair of boys (who were now blushing) stutters. “Group hug, and would you like to join this time, Malfoy?”

Draco smirked. “No, you know, I think I’m alright.”

Harry pouted. “Draco! This is a great moment! Why no hugs?”

With an aching heart, Draco thought about his stone torso and shook his head again. “I don’t do hugs,” he said quietly. He was saddened greatly with the thought that he would never be able to hug Harry without him finding out about the curse.

The sulky mood didn’t last long, however. Ron suggested a two-on-two game of Exploding Snap the others couldn’t refuse, and they made their way to the courtyard, talking and laughing loudly.


	7. Loving a Losing Battle

No one expected McGonagall’s “house unity” idea to actually work. Therefore  _ everyone _ was surprised to see the famous Gryffindor trio laughing easily with the infamous Slytherin quartet. Harry, Draco, Ron, Blaise, Hermione, Pansy, and Theo all were huddled in a group, jackets wrapped tight, as they made their way down to Hogsmeade. A month had passed since Harry had come out to his friends, and shortly after, the Slytherins as well. The group of seven instantly stuck together, befriending one another.

Harry watched, leaning against the doorframe of Scrivenshaft’s as Hermione and Blaise discussed the importance of quills and which were best suitable for each occasion. Draco walked up behind Harry and dropped his chin on the boy’s shoulder.

Turning to grin at the pale boy, Harry muttered, “Who knew they’d get along so well? And it’s all thanks to us, mind you.”

“All thanks to  _ me _ , really,” Draco said, his chin moving on Harry’s shoulder. “After all,  _ I’m _ the one who helped you with that panic attack. From then on you decided to be nice to me.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “But if I hadn’t had the panic attack in the first place…”

Draco lifted his head off Harry’s shoulder, smirking slightly. “I don’t think that’s how that works, Potter.” Harry laughed and grabbed Draco’s hand leading him away from the quill shop. “Where to, Chosen One?”

Looking around, Harry spotted Ron with Theo and Pansy, looking at Zonko’s products. Theo and Pansy looked interested at what Ron was saying. The latter wore a smirk and Harry had no doubt Ron was comparing Zonko’s products to his brother’s.

“Three Broomsticks?” Harry glanced up at the taller boy, shivering. “I’m freezing, even your hand doesn’t seem as cold as the temperature.”

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled his hand from Harry’s grip. “No one asked you to hold it. You’re the one that keeps grabbing it.”

“That I do,” Harry grinned and took Draco’s hand once more. Harry saw a pink tint to his face and knew that it might not be from the cold. The pair walked into the pub, instantly enveloped by the warming charms and the Christmas smells.

Not that Draco could feel the warming charms anyways. Outside hadn’t even been cold for him- it felt normal. He followed Harry up to the bar, where they ordered their butterbeers, then sat down at one of the booths together.

Harry wiped his sleeve over his mouth after sipping his drink, knowing there was probably white foam on his mouth. He looked to Draco, who was looking at the Christmas decorations with narrowed eyes.

“Not a fan of Christmas? Shall I add that to the list of things Draco Malfoy doesn’t like?” Harry smirked when Draco glared at him.

“Keep talking and you can add yourself to that list, too,” Draco smirked. “But, no, it’s not that. I like Christmas…” he trailed off.

Over the past three and a half months, Harry had learned Draco Malfoy too well. “No, you don’t,” he said, noticing Draco’s shifty gaze and how he absentmindedly traced his finger along the table.

Scowling, he muttered, “Fine, I don’t. Happy?”

“No,” Harry shrugged. “Why don’t you?”

Draco now drummed his fingers against the table, taking another long sip of his butterbeer before answering. “You really want to know?”

Harry blinked at him. “I wrote that I wanted to listen, didn’t I?”

That was all the confirmation Draco needed to continue. “Christmas is supposed to be about joy and loving and family and presents and food and  _ fun _ things. But, for me, every year, Christmas was just another two weeks at the cold Manor where I was alone. Save for my mother making small talk and my father telling me that a  _ mudblood _ beating me in marks was outrageous and pathetic. I have never had a good Christmas.”

Before answering, Harry went over what Draco had just told him. Sure, for the first ten years of his life, Harry’s Christmases had been awful, but once he went with the Weasley’s, they were as perfect as Christmases were supposed to be. The Weasley’s were Harry’s escape. Draco never had one.

“Draco,” Harry began carefully. “Your father… he’s not here. He’s gone, alright? You don’t have to worry about him anymore. You’re your own person now, and you’re an  _ amazing _ person. You’ve grown and changed so much and look where it got you. You’re doing better than ever before, right?”

Draco ignored the stone around him and nodded a bit.

“Exactly,” Harry nodded. “This Christmas you’ll go back to the Manor, and it will be you and your mother, and Pansy, Blaise, and Theo. They’ll make sure you’re not alone. And if you need me, I’m just an owl away.”

Draco’s face softened as he smiled a bit. “Thanks, Harry,” he said quietly. The two boys blushed and glanced away, not noticing the string of mistletoe that had appeared above their heads.

• • •

“Potter, Parkinson, you’re up.”

Harry looked wide-eyed at Pansy. He hadn’t realized the presentations had moved along so fast. She looked back at him before they both slowly stood and walked to the front of the classroom, preparing to give their presentation.

As Pansy waved her wand at the screen to bring up their presentation, Harry ran through it in his head. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. Then he felt Draco’s eyes boring into the back of his head. Right- that’s why.

Pansy cleared her throat and stood beside Harry, both of them facing the class. “Well, Harry and I decided to research the Salem Witch Trials.”

He saw Hermione give him a thumbs up, and he took a deep breath. “The Salem Witch Trials occurred in America- in the state of Massachusetts- in 1692 and 1693. They resulted in executions of many people, mostly women, that had been accused of witchcraft. Any other ones were just unlucky Muggles believed to have magic.”

“Now, this just goes to show that America really is so much below Europe,” Pansy said, gaining a few laughs, “because after the trials, many witches and wizards that had moved overseas returned to their homelands, therefore putting off migration to the Americas for a few more centuries.”

Their presentation went relatively well, not that Professor Binns was paying much attention anyways. Harry walked back to his seat next to Draco, high-fiving him as he sat down.

“Malfoy, Weasley.”

Draco’s grin fell as him and Ron blanched. “You did finish, didn’t you?” Harry asked quietly, and Draco nodded. He and Ron stood and made their way to the front of the class.

Now this is what Harry was looking forward to. A presentation all about him by his best mate and enemy-turned-best mate. Harry rested his chin on his hand, smirking at Draco as the blond made eye contact with him. Draco stuck his tongue out and looked away.

“Weasley and I decided to base our history project around Harry Potter, for reasons none of you need to know,” Draco drawled. “Without Harry Potter, the world we live in today would not exist. Probably would be a bit darker.”

“Just a bit?” Ron raised his eyebrows, then remembered he was presenting. “Er- right. Yeah, Harry stopped You- Voldemort more than once. When he was just one year old he defeated the greatest Dark Wizard of all time. And, sixteen years later, he did it again.”

“Not to mention the many other times in between that,” Draco continued. “When he was just eleven he defeated him again. The same at twelve, then he managed to escape alive at fourteen, fight him again at fifteen, and then deal with him once and for all a few months ago.”

Harry loved every moment of their presentation. For the most part, Ron and Draco didn’t look at him, and Harry just sat and listened to them praising him for ten minutes before they finished. He grinned at Ron and high-fived Draco when they’d finished.

The rest of the presentations passed, but Harry and Draco paid no attention to them. They sat at their desk, heads close together, whispering and holding their breath so they wouldn’t laugh if the other said something funny.

“Okay, but remember when I was a ferret?”

Harry’s eyebrows raised. “How could I forget that?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Well, you know how I was in that tree when you walked over? Yeah, I kinda, seconds before, climbed all over Crabbe and Goyle to get up there just so I could impress you.” Draco looked away.

Harry’s jaw dropped and he bit the side of his hand, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “You’re lying.”

Turning redder by the second, Draco shook his head. “Oh, I really wish I could say I was.” He grinned as Harry wiped tears from his eyes, his face red. “It’s not  _ that _ funny, you prick!”

Suddenly, Harry took a deep breath and calmed himself, stopping his laughter. He leaned to Draco and pressed a kiss to his ice-cold cheek. Draco froze, shocked by the action.

And although there was inches of hard stone surrounding his heart, Draco had never felt it as warm as it was then.

• • •

“Do you promise you’ll write?” Harry asked, holding Draco’s shoulder in one hand, the other pointing at his face accusingly. “Every day I want a letter from you, Malfoy.”

A smirk covering his face, Draco shrugged. “Don’t get your hopes up, Potter.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry shoved Draco away as their friends came down from the dorms and into the common room. Everyone was packed and heading home for the winter break. Theo was in a very heated argument about Quidditch with Ron and Blaise, and Hermione was whispering with Pansy while both girls shot glances at Harry and Draco.

“What do you think they’re up to?” Harry muttered, pointing to the girls.

Draco’s eyes narrowed when he caught Pansy’s eye and the raven haired girl smirked and waved innocently. “Nothing good, we can bet on that,” Draco sighed, running a hand through his platinum hair.

Harry watched him mess up his hair and laughed a little. “The Malfoy I went to school with would never do that,” he grinned and reached a hand up, fixing Draco’s hair. “Merlin, Malfoy, even your  _ hair _ is cold.”

Smirking, Draco simply shrugged. Harry dropped his hand and noticed that he and Draco were only inches away. He didn’t want to consider what would have happened if Blaise and Theo gave up arguing with Ron and walked over to the pair.

“Alright, Malfoy, you’ll see your boyfriend in two weeks time, but I really would love to be at the Manor, so can we hurry up the farewells?” Theo sighed impatiently, still bitter about Ron.

Harry and Draco blushed and started muttering denials, to which Theo simply swatted his hand. Draco leaned in and pressed his icy lips to Harry’s cheek, who heated up despite Draco’s temperature.

“Wh-what was that?” Harry asked quietly, eyes wide.

With a smirk and a shrug, Draco said, “Returning the favor.”

Before Harry could say anything back, Pansy came over to the Slytherin boys, and the group of four exited the common room to head down to Hogsmeade to apparate away. Hermione and Ron walked over and stood on either side of Harry.

“Aw, Harry, you’re  _ blushing _ ,” Ron teased, a grin on his face.

Harry rolled his eyes, but his heart wasn’t in the action. “Oh, sod off. You guys ready?”

Hermione grinned amusedly, “Just waiting for you, Harry.”

Another roll of the eyes, and Harry was leading his friends out of the eighth year common room. Ginny was waiting in the hallway for them, then joined the trio as they made their way down to the Hogwarts Express.

• • •

Although he might not have known what it was like to have a close and happy biological family, Harry felt right at home with the Weasley’s at the Burrow. It was warm and bright with lit fireplaces and Christmas decorations in every room.

“Welcome home, you four!” Mrs. Weasley’s voice greeted the group as she came over and gave Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny each their own hugs. “You’re right on time- the others arrived just a few minutes ago.”

Harry soon figured out that the “others” consisted of George, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, their baby Victorie, and Andromeda with baby Teddy Lupin. And, of course, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“How’s my boy?” Harry grinned as he walked over to the woman. She smiled and let Harry take Teddy from her arms. This time around, his hair was bright blue.

“Starting to talk, now,” She informed him, “I think he missed you.”

Harry smiled down at the baby, who’s eyes were opened wide. Teddy’s small hand latched around Harry’s pointer finger. “Well, I missed him, too.”

The rest of the night went amazing. There were only a few bumps in the road when Mrs. Weasley found out that Harry and Ginny had broken up, and when they all did a toast to Fred and George’s feigned cheery mood dropped.

George had excused himself off to bed before desert, leaving the rest of the Weasley children and the other guests to turn to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“He’s been getting better,” Mr. Weasley told them in a low voice. “I think it helps that he’s living in the house instead of alone in the shop right now, and he’s slowly getting better. Probably just the big family gathering made him miss him a little extra.”

Everyone at the table pretended that they didn’t see the tears on Mrs. Weasley’s face.

Ginny, Hermione, Fleur, Andromeda, and Mrs. Weasley then, later that night, wrapped any last minute gifts and forced Charlie, Mr. Weasley, and Ron to clean up from dinner. Bill and Harry got let off the hook to look after Victorie and Teddy.

“You know, Harry,” Bill said, with an amused look on his face, “I’m sure we could set Vic here up with Teddy in the future. They’ll be in the same Hogwarts year, after all.”

Harry laughed and nodded a little. “We can try. And if they end up hating each other, at least we can say we tried.”

“How is Hogwarts? I mean… after everything. What’s it like being back there?” Bill asked, his grin slipping slightly.

The thought of Harry’s many panic attacks pushed into his mind, but he stayed calm. “It was difficult, at first. But Dr- but  _ someone _ \- helped me face it, and it’s a bit better, now.” Harry wasn’t sure how the Weasley’s would feel if they knew he was close with a Malfoy.

Bill nodded thoughtfully, but Ron (who was wearing a scowl from cleaning up), grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him away. He then went to gather Hermione, then led them to his room. Hermione sat down next to Harry on Ron’s bed and accepted Teddy into her arms gleefully.

“Chess?” Harry asked Ron, nodding to Ron’s table. The ginger nodded and the pair began a rather intense game of Wizard’s Chess.

“So, Harry,” Hermione spoke up from the bed, smiling at Teddy, who was reaching his tiny hands up at her. “How long have you had a crush on Malfoy?”

It was difficult to say whether Harry or Ron was more surprised by this question. Harry’s head snapped up to look at the smirking girl while Ron toppled out of his chair.

“ _ Harry _ ?” Ron gasped, sitting up quickly, “Have a crush on  _ Malfoy _ ?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh, honestly, Ron, do you even have  _ eyes _ ? Yes, Malfoy! And he practically gives you the same exact heart eyes right back, Harry.”

Flushing, Harry muttered, “I don’t give Draco  _ heart eyes _ .”

“Listen, I just think your life would be a lot easier if you admitted that you have feelings for him,” Hermione shrugged nonchalantly and looked back at Teddy.

Harry stood. “How would that make it  _ easier _ ? Then it would just be confirmed and I’d have to sit there and watch him fall for someone else while my heart breaks.” He glared at Hermione then his eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“Mate,” Ron said quietly, his eyes wide, too. “I agree with Hermione. You’re head over heels for the blond prick, aren’t you?”

Sinking back into his chair, Harry slowly nodded. “Yeah, Ron, I think I really have fallen for Draco Malfoy.”

Well, shit.

• • •

If the Malfoy Manor was cold, Draco couldn’t tell. However, Pansy, Blaise, and Theo all kept their jackets on until the group reached the drawing room, where they happily sunk into the couches by the fireplace.

“Merry Christmas, my loves!” Narcissa Malfoy was smiling brightly as she waltzed into the room. Draco grinned as his three friends jumped up before him to go hug and kiss his mother hello. The grin faded when he remembered that he could not hug her.

However, he did stand as she walked over to him, a slightly sad smile on her face. “Merry, Christmas, Draco,” she whispered.

When she moved to hug him, he took a step back, but she took his hand. “Draco, you’re my son, and it’s Christmas. I don’t care if you’re stone, I’m hugging you.” And with that, she wrapped her arms around his waist, her head on his chest. He’d outgrown her a while ago.

Draco had forgotten what a hug felt like. Sure, he couldn’t feel his middle, but he knew that this was what it was like to be in someone’s arms. He closed his eyes and hugged his mother back- tightly. He felt a few tears slip down his face and brushed them off.

“I’ve scheduled an appointment at St. Mungo’s for the twenty-seventh,” Narcissa told Draco, pulling away from the hug. “Just for a check up and to see how…” she trailed off.

Swallowing, his throat feeling tight, he choked out, “To see how much time I have left.”

It wasn’t a question and he didn’t need an answer. It was a statement, and Narcissa had to turn away so Draco couldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

Pansy came over and took Draco’s arm. “We’ll worry about that when we have to. Now, how about a nice game of Drink or Truth?”

Many rounds, a few hours, and far too much firewhiskey later, Draco and his Slytherin friends were drunk as can be on Christmas Eve in Draco’s bedroom. Blaise, of course, stayed sober enough to look after the rest, therefore answering every question with truth so he wouldn’t have to drink.

“Draco! Your turn. When did you start fancying Potter?” Pansy smirked.

Blaise and Theo’s conversation stopped instantly as they looked back and forth between Draco (who’s eyes were wide) and Pansy (who wore a triumphant smirk).

Draco leaned back against his headboard and shook his head. “I choose the truth because the answer is that I  _ don’t _ fancy Harry.”

Blaise sucked a breath in through his teeth while Theo snorted. “Mate, we don’t tolerate lying. Drink up, Malfoy.” Blaise handed Draco a shot glass.

They would hear none of his protests. “Guys, you really think I like Harry?”

“You really think you don’t?” Theo shot back. “Let’s just list a few things; the kisses on cheeks, the hand holding, the smiling, the way you two look at each other, the  _ amount _ you two look at each other- need I go on?”

Frowning, Draco watched the whiskey in his glass move around as he twirled it. Yes, earlier in the year he thought he fancied Harry, and he supposed it had grown stronger. What he felt for Harry was something he’d never felt for anyone else before. And it wasn’t just some schoolboy crush that was going to fade.

“I, um,” Draco said quietly, his tone serious, “I think I’m in love with Harry Potter.”

Waving his wand, Blaise repaired the shattered glass that Pansy had dropped, his mouth slightly open as he looked at Draco. After dropping her glass in surprise, Pansy was watching Draco with wide eyes. Theo kept blinking at him.

“Like-” Pansy’s voice was a whisper, “Like, you love him in the way that could break the curse?”

Draco unwillingly nodded. 

“Brilliant! We have to tell him about it, then-” Blaise began, but Draco shook his head.

“No, absolutely not,” Draco denied. “Because then he’ll say he loves me out of pity or something, and it won’t be a real enough type of love to save me. We can’t tell him.”

“You don’t think that he already loves you in the same way you love him?” Theo questioned.

At that, Draco bit his lip and looked out of the window at the dark midnight sky. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think anyone loves me the way I love Harry.”


End file.
